sábado, 15 de febrero de 2014

De hi d ai

De hi d ai

It seems that when times goes by
When your bosoms are relaxed
And your teeth are damaged
You would be less important to his eyes than today.

Something says to you
And that something is the way he looks at you
The dimension of his desire
That marks the intensity of each one of his caresses.

Perhaps tomorrow the words will not be enough
Yours or his
While your body desires some other
But not the immensity you could ever reach.

But the solution is only to endure
And at the end of times
The great structure of concepts
Must measure its strength in front of all.

And now more than ever, when the wine is still not sour
To see if you build moments like webbing a net
Sinking your thoughts in the story of scarcities
That each person wants to build and imagine as a horrible flag.

They usually say that little by little it can be accomplished
And it is thought
That occurrence in the following minute
Is decided in the previous one.

Everyone makes the decision to listen
To foresee or stop thinking
While the crickets sing their lust
Not being able to demonstrate it.

Sometimes the escape never exists
Mainly when you lose love
And the arm that wisely would cover your back
Waiting terrified the moment to apologize for his senility.

As you see, the epochs are usually different
As it is written, an important thing is the companion 
And another thing is the lady who accompanies you in the length of time
Where some persons still confuse selfishness with self-centeredness.

When someone tries to save a life
It is considered as a favor
From the person who wants to be saved
And it is different when for pity
Somebody puts all his effort to do it.

And thus the tool importance and not the one who uses it
Only then the result will be better than the process
Because they would not have biography or epitaph
As one and another will fuse afterwards
And not before.

The falsehood of nakedness
The disgrace in pretending to test yourself
The turpitude in intending to capture an isolated truth
Riding the animal force on a simple desire.

The bitterness of facts
The confirmation of the truth
Without the balsam of crying eyes
And the right actions like stones thrown by the past.

And the old legend of pride
The theory of honesty
And that of human nature
Just like if the older were more important
And would not balance the younger[1].

The bubbling of mocking
And the tickling of fear
Tears the skin in the heels
Thinking on dreams not accomplished.

However, after this time
It could not depend on our forgiveness
But in asking the other the same extreme attitude
As one decided to keep distance from the impossible.

But after languish and febrile “however”
As history and astrologists say
They are made up of salt and air
But not of bread or wine.
So that the worst is to guess right
And the tragic is not doing it
As from the matter point of view
Someone who experience without saying
Talks to another without remorse
Affirming that fire does not depend on air.

[1] Genesis 25:23 – Exodus  7:2