Like a parabolic flight.
What brings you back to the origins or you back in the air.
In a rush away.
off the ground.
outside every day, giving you every day.
Leaving clothes and waited in vain to burn.
children leaving with your eyes, but with less love.
And feel the wind that distributes light
read a date in red on the calendar,
and realize that it is not a holiday if there is no
a guest.
I live in South, blood red and pearl.
of worlds unseen cliffs.
accomplices of country roads, sun and moss.
of human passion and human.
cheeks burning of arid and thoughts.
of wild poetry and angelic ecstasy.
With dreams in your shoes like stones.
dreams on the back.
Dreams as white warriors.
While plot every day for me
bracelets perfume and kisses.
I met you in a day less.
My allegations in the viewfinder, as the source.
You pesavi every gesture inconspicuous.
Even the trees were following your notes.
Like the story I told you in silence.
We have planned everything.
The pain for not meeting.
also incomprehensible punishment.
You have time for me, the profile of peace?
You have my time for four reasons not to love?
Did you hear the punishment for my ring?
As a sandbank in the sea.
Crushed by the infinite beauty of the lens.
seen only by those who do not fear the inability to breathe.
Vast.
Your.
canceling.
I watch on the edge of my "if" to perceive and proclaim.
You jump between my games like a child learning to cheat.
touches my face with burrs caresses as nooses.
Tell me how can I obtain pardon.
Tell me how can I slay me.
Under the stairs our night also covers the powder.
