I
And I said, if women would be a bitch. All the pleasures that could provide would be subject to the movement of my body numb under the shelter of a different man every night, no! More than one man per night, more than one body alone, drunk and foolish.
What more could I expect from a man? What more could I expect? Tell me, damn man I dwell, you expect the world but fucking, vaginas, breasts and so on. I'm tired of this vision so common. Yes, I repeat, if women would be a bitch. Do not love money but I can learn to love the same way that I can love all men who have it, I can walk with their legs open for everywhere, giving, being a killer of virginity and promoting obscenity.
addition, if your hands have been in your own legs, I would give mine for me Urges, touch my soul to a woman abandoned on the streets by myself. My needs can not satisfy, you know what I eat? No, I do not like taste of sin, my food is pride, not enough men for love without money, if you think he runs the world. Buy a luxury car and get out to hell. I would be waiting. This really was a woman.
If women sow in my womb the seed of your flesh to satiate your appetite like you when I would eat your food, drink my sweat of others to bite my skin, I would be hearing all night, every star in me a kiss would be sold and .
I
you stay in the darkness of so many busy corner, a word that is, a proposition that comes along, two bodies to be and one returning. A routine that varies from bodies, sizes, voices and feelings. If you were a woman and was a whore would not fear, would I be a woman, a whore and a devil, my devil himself. would go out every night in the car of harboring unrest the illusion of coming back later, after injection of pleasure to my potential murderer.
I'ma man and I'm a bitch, I'm female and I am my own client, I am the solitude that usurps my own bed, happily penetrated my tears for hope in the abyss that we all blanket, live the dream of my own view about myself, about my being proper and improper.
Ah, why I can not simply surrender without charge? Why are there more confidence in a price? We also need to love, to feel desired, even for a moment, even a simple hallucination presented in the mirror each morning, there, in a long dress, adorned with eyes that look at me, with fingers that touched me and silence me comfort.
II
I have tired eyes always look the same, one bedroom, one body, one moment, same face as reflected in the mirror and can not stop laughing, damn, you make fun of me, do you know that I am? Your laughter mocks you, you tight, and it kills me too.
You leave, go back and inhabit a simple reflection again absent; know that I look forward and not return, look at the clock, every time time you swallow a little more of my trouble, I wonder where are you? I look at the mirror and see, but not you, am I that I have you caught in my eyes burning, when last vision before death. I scream but I hear only the voice that spreads between cigarette smoke consumed the soil. I stopped to fetch more than tenfold under the bed, on my bed in the bathroom, closet, smoke, silence in the darkness of the street, in the footsteps of the now ownerless shoes in all your things are mine now, in all the memories that come to me and to continue generating alone, as if one were living in my head, as if I were living only in the memory of a dead man who will soon consume all this time that now consumes me.
know I still have not died, I know you're wandering the streets that lie in my outside world, everything that exists outside of me. But still I keep missing you, you were my best bidder, you gave me what I never asked, which I never dreamed in my thousand lives and what this dream never left me, but your flight has left me a line marking eardrums, which rings and rings piercing my reason in a déjà vu. This music takes me on his trip to last sonnets remove my brain dead, and yet I wonder about you, you will come when I'm asleep, scream my name and sleep peacefully. And then raise my body to get you and you will not be there in your bed, in your corner, with your legs drawn up. In the meantime I, I will not have cigarettes on the table.
Then walk around corners permeating my tears, watching the rain simply twist the sky, the blue hell that awaits us there, far from the present in which we are separated by burned skin and fresh. Drink your water, my thirst, yours, all possible absent in places absent, in my flesh rationed.
Still you wait, you'll never get the exact time that my half-day sits on my evening, and see my dawn and wrapped in fine suits, dancing to the beat of Beethoven alone, moving the bones, eyes , hair, skin, caresses, the intentions, words, affections, life, life dancing endless bustle, life confused between fear and glory, between your skin and mine. In this corner away where I am, once lived.
III
- Why look at me that way? I know what you do in this corner for so many busy, I have learned from his own work that I expect a long time ago, do not have to hide from our human intentions, you have to talk because your legs do it for you.
- D and that otherwise I would look at the shadow that lies hidden in my skin?
- Just look at me when I'm behind you as you contemplate in the mirror. I do not know another reason for your words hungry for my skin.
- not accuse my words of heretics, who would know me and know who I am. Your presence always has bothered me so strange, when you touch me, feel the world come inside me, when you hear the silence changes color, move all the unconscious of my words.
- You think so?
- That feel, that feel, that you feel it too when I inhabit. I know when I touch your throbbing haze, nothing is scattered in any direction at any moment, nothing, nothing.
- should be silent forever, your tongue is only measured with the stain of your blood on my skin, your words did not absorb enough to understand you, do you really feel something?
- do you? (Laughter) You feel the silence in your head explode, the eternal thirst longs for a kiss strange and pointless, I hope to feel every possible taste presented to you on the road, would not you seen your face many times to know?
- you know I can not. You've never allowed to drink all the tears you have shed in my no, how to know my face when you only let me touch you in my absence, and after that you miss me? As if you never were.
- You know you always leave me, when I try to touch you just vanishes, leaving scratches on the wall, if I hear you scream in my head, you scream, your heartbeat, your fears, all your words losses are only in my coat. Whatever you produce, you know I produce in me and only me.
- Time to die, perhaps, can not bear so many memories gray fog only this mirror in which we stand, walk to that corner and just watch me disappear from here, not worth the skin that covers you, you're just a disguise of a bitch with the mask of the devil.
- And you who do you think? Does that Nazarene savior?
- should know your words before the venerable hurt, do not punish me because you know that it hurts. I know you believe in me as much as I believe in you.
- You should know I do not believe in you.
- I know.
- So what you want from me? I can only offer what you have given me since my fall, I can only see what my knees and show me all I can find your face is soaked in my tears, Your word is a revolt with mine.
- enough, just enough. I'm tired of dying for so long, only from your corner behold me busy for your many demons.
- You know I always will.
- Eternity as visible only when the always accompanying us is that with the heart, what do you know the heart? You just have to homelessness in the cracks.
- This heart I carry in my bones is no more rotten than move your purposes, is not merely a reflection of what you love dark.
- Now that talk of love, we should do, if anything like that can do so. Take my hands that hold you, close your eyes looking at me, now you can feel the life.
- Life, that strange word.
IV
remember I liked to drink coffee in the morning, get up when the sun was still trying to live in the depths that can exist in me. I felt the heat, the heat that consumed my visions, everything was dying spark that tied me to ashes in my fingers which drew my own face and he looked at me as through a mirror used in which only distinguish the silhouettes no border, no heart.
Distingo because I cover my hair, eyes, everything looked possesses some degree, in some resemblance to myself and everything else that surrounds me in a melancholy sigh that I professed.
Under this memory I can think clearly about the possibilities of assisting me, a knife, I, a passage only trimmed by the edge of my will bloody murder, my loneliness that accompany sick from your reflection. I would like to take your light in me by many suns ago, the mechanical act of vivirme impassive as death itself.
I can warn you that I have hunger, your bones pale in the background sounding eaten my hunches, of your long fingers that my visceral cancer in my lips bleed in your presence, your stars lit obscuring mist and a blue paint, your pores open to all senses, your blind faith that makes you stumble strongly against my sin, I have dull hunger glass that you look out, utter flimsy whisper of all that forget to create it again, well, your way so subtle.
I think it's time to feed my body, I've been too complacent in uncertain host that disturbs me. Soon, very soon be able to laugh again without looking in the mirror.
V
remember your words, - are not full of surprises, no, we are the shock itself. (three hours in silence watching the mirror)
Today I bring to your mouth bitter taste in me without the guise of a wall or a mere memory, slowly permeating my body I'll whore bleed passion I have, one that has held my bones covered with this blanket porous for many moons.
The pain is just a chance to feel alive, was only a draft of our humanity, that conviction that runs through our blood since time immemorial, thanks to two souls like us has come the time to serve again, so so real.
Our omen was written with our blood on the skins of others, our prophet has said that you were mine and that I belonged, the wind brought to my ears the word of God and has spoken:
VI
Ah, as moving as they no longer possess, I will have eaten your act, I have filled with your breath and your skin thick sordid. Our voice has appeased the edge of your home now broken, broken into pieces for all my corners. My blood flows from all members and I can not swallow again, my thirst has been consumed by the blood, yours, and mine are the same.
The union of all sins in the same place has combined infinity in a vision, and now when everything has meaning, everything comes together in a wave of divine words segmented smooth life.
this dark world I opened the door and crossed to the other side, where your company vanishes again afraid to look in the mirror.
