Ir al contenido principal

Oh gran Sabina

Hay mujeres que arrastran maletas cargadas de lluvia,
Hay mujeres que nunca reciben postales de amor,
Hay mujeres que sueñan con trenes llenos de soldados,
Hay mujeres que dicen que sí cuando dicen que no.
Hay mujeres que bailan desnudas en cárceles de oro,
Hay mujeres que buscan deseo y encuentran piedad,
Hay mujeres atadas de manos y pies al olvido,
Hay mujeres que huyen perseguidas por su soledad.
Hay mujeres veneno, mujeres imán,
Hay mujeres de fuego y helado metal,
Hay mujeres consuelo, hay mujeres consuelo,
Hay mujeres consuelo, mujeres fatal.
Hay mujeres que tocan y curan, que besan y matan,
Hay mujeres que ni cuando mienten dicen la verdad,
Hay mujeres que exploran secretas estancias del alma,
Hay mujeres que empiezan la guerra firmando la paz.
Hay mujeres envueltas en pieles sin cuerpo debajo,
Hay mujeres en cuyas caderas no se pone el sol,
Hay mujeres que van al amor como van al trabajo,
Hay mujeres capaces de hacerme perder la razón.

Sin comentarios... es sólo él.

Comentarios

Entradas populares de este blog

I cannot write about you

My mind is blocked when I'm writing a word on you. There's no reason, no bad feeling, no pain, but I know the appropriation is mine. Your memories are mine; I don't want even share them with my writing. The memories of you are apart from the world; they are far away. They don't live in the fire, and the passion of handwriting but they live there, enough, permanent. I know, however, you're made of all of the elements. The fire lives on you but is calm and shiny, comforting, balanced. I've been heating by those flames so many times that I got used to getting burned. I'm used to your water also. Patient and infinite, wise and eternal. Full of life but wild and destructive. I've been drinking for a long time but I'm always thirsty.  I've also seen the passion, and the wild wind, but I'd better like to remember the soft touch of your hands in my hands. You are the elements together, and the perfection of someone I've renounced and I'm not ...

Mono blanco en la nieve

He despertado con la misma ansiedad de cada mes.  Atrapado en la misma botella. Estoy cubierto, estoy desnudo, no importa. Conozco ahora la rutina sobrevivir a lo que hay afuera, aunque nunca vaya a salir. No hay diferencia o distancia, cuan grande o pequeño sea el camino. Sigo siendo un momento, una señal, un punto. Le he ganado al tiempo y me muevo despacio. Despertar al alma sería imperdonable, pero hago el suficiente ruido para que sepa que sigo siendo yo. Sólo por hoy en un momento, en un señal en un punto. Sigo siendo yo. Un mono blanco en la nieve  

Dreaming

Have you dreamed about you? How do you dream? Do you dream? Your questions are killing me at the same time that I'm trying to transform the sleeping time on peace. I'm not up; I'm not sleeping, but your inquiries are just there. It's just casual! I said, at the same time, I'm trying to defend myself from my real thoughts. Would it be possible that I'm taking something from her when I've got you in my nights? What does that mean? You wake me up again. It's the third time in this week you say her name; you're saying upset and naked. I'm allegedly screaming my love for her, everything in my dreams, with the complicity of the night. I deliberately don't remember any detail; I don't know what are you talking about. There's no real explanation on that. It's only in my dreams. I barely remember her, but she's there. I have a solid routine to make everything except thinking, excel filling my thoughts. I'm trying to feed every seco...