Tú haciendo poesía

Vives en ese espacio detrás de mis ojos, en donde se queda la belleza, los miedos y los sueños. En donde no tienes que mirar para mirar porque puedes sentir tu luz sin que haya un sólo rayo de sol. Vives detrás de mi nariz también, justo debajo. Despertando los más dulces recuerdos atrapados en tu aroma, reviviendo instantes que sólo se alimentan con tu ser. Vives detrás de mis labios, callando lo que de ti quiero decir y gritando todo lo que te quiero besar. Vives en cada grieta que con el frío recuerda tu piel, vives en cada latido que necesita tu voz...

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Ocio de sábado

Se alquila! Apuesto muchacho para salir fines de semana. Dispuesto a cualquier cosa con tal de evitar el ocio semanal. Diversas facetas, divertido y apuesto. Favor de abstenerse si usted no tiene más de 17 años o menos de 33. Preferentemente chicas lindas... Informes, dejar un comentario en este post... Saludos!

I’ve never feared so much to something that by nature should be beautiful. It is because sometimes beauty is reminding me just where the line is drawn. By the times the flowers were born the permafrost should be there, the ice on the earth was never there. By the time they were opened no one were walking to spread the news. They flourished alone, in the wrong moment, in a world that will be consumed by the fatality of its beauty #flowers #february #blossom🌸 #climatechangeisreal

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Writing again

Dear JC, It's peculiar, isn't it, how the mind clings to memories, especially those we wish to forget? Some nights, I find myself ensnared in a web of dreams, each thread woven with echoes of you. You, who dominated my thoughts, still reign in the kingdom of my nighttime musings. I remember, with an unsettling clarity, every encounter, every word, and every smirk. The way your laughter would echo down hallways, a haunting melody that played on all my strings. The cold glint in your eyes as you found new ways to assert your dominance, your power, unyielding and absolute. In these dreams, I revisit those days, each detail meticulously preserved in the museum of my mind. The corridors, once mundane, now seem like twisted labyrinths in my dreams, with you as the ever-present Minotaur, both feared and revered. Sometimes, I wonder if you ever think of those days. Do you ever recall the weight of your words and actions? Or have they dissolved into the ether, insignificant and forgotte...

Spaceship

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