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In every street Look

things are very far,

those

you

tell me.

do not know why,

do not know where,

you come into my head,

will expand and tap

each thought,

do not know who resell

my breath.

You're the fog

covering every person

each path,

every intention

and leave,

in each street

see that

you alone.

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December

appearance in December,

each year

as you have taught me, because

after each end there is always

its principle.
Emerald in your eyes,
diamond in your heart,

of my every day

you're part

yet.

're in the coffee I drink,
in the summer sun,

sleep,
in some evenings,
the voice of my mother.

And, day after day,

know,

become great.

But it is only with you by,

see it,

that I expect in December.

(My grandmother)

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What is your best

is that you're my past,

a road already traveled,

left me behind.

You see, now.

I've passed.

I'm only

tell you,

friend sad and shameful,

that two numbers in algebra,

opposed to nature,

add up and show

what's the difference.
And I of this sum
I'm eating the fruit,

or hate

nor resentment,

now

between us

only distance.

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17marzo1861-17marzo 2011





































E THE STORY CONTINUES ....

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The difference between the swarm and the sky

theorem of infinity,

window on the desert,

six area drained

enclosed in a grain.

Chip diamond

stuck in my heart,

engagement with the sacred

that you can not reveal.

Six Hurricane

who live in silence,

my sleepy voice,

the line

between swarming and sky.

An atom of your

already is my universe,

your fire is different,

burns

but not devastating.

Six secret revealed

read and not understood,

an unknown language,

spoken

but not translated.

And all my principle
you rewind,
for viverti and

to zero,

yet.

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anvil

I imagine,

your body,

on my bare back.

I hear,

now

your skin

heated

from my experienced hands.

're my loneliness,

the desires of my burning,

my hammer

intrepid

my patient

anvil.

I love and I hide,

hidden, then

you seek.

Why

as

seems useless,

see me live.

think of you,

instead

means go,

means

have you still.

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distracted and the city

and half

the way

and among the people dream,

of see you again.

I watch those passers

all you like,

if not on the face

in more ...

do not know,

you,

each

speaks.

You are the echo of everything

and your reflection

is everywhere,

but I think of you next,

pretend,

or perhaps a little t'invento.

Because every moment

we were together,

I live a life

that has no border.

It's like a skyscraper

that rises above a river,

built in a few moments,

game,

or by mistake.

And now that I open my eyes,

to really experience,

six water has passed through,

you

and he

an 'illusion.

distracted and the city

to me already that you seek,

but if you go back,

certainly

I I would be the same,

and pretend Essert

alien and indifferent,

to lead one to seek

now
perhaps

in the midst of this

people.

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Close to the heart, poor people!
My prayer goes to you.

Our time is essentially tragic, and we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has run down, we are among the ruins, we start to build new small centers of life, to nurture new little hopes. It is a relatively hard, the road to the future is not easy: you have to work around obstacles, or trying to climb over. However great the number of heaven that fell on his head while we live.
- David Herbert Lawrence

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distracted and the city 's equation

is on my skin

feel that your life,

the heat your body

that comes to mind,

backlighting.

is in these moments

ethereal

me that the world unfolds,

laws more remote

are stupid expressions.

You're whole life,

enclose every experience,

explain the world

is easy,

now

you are the solution.

I do not know how many moments

me,

sure you're long,

I do not know how many other

I'll remember me.

Of all my life
you're the 'equation,

and in thee my variables

lead me to the mystery.

certainly can not ask

a bird in flight,

until soars,

to inquire into the sky.

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At night

At night I'll try,

the dark

and is an extreme thought,

because during the day

there is too much light,

love

too many people

and seems

that we can not do

what I want.

By day I viverti,

what life is like a park,

enjoy a quiet

that is not quiet,

ever.

And always will divide,

with other voices and dreams,

a thousand obstacles,

in the great disenchantment.

At night, however,

love

for me only

exist,

and you look at me

and live

without you see,

am your holy fire,

lava your

downhill.

why I
day,

I feel a great actor,
sometimes
without a mask,
only an imposter.

And watch without touching

as I do not touch the sky,

and I live on the edge every time,

between descent and flight.

At night I can have you,

instead

without a real excuse,

every time I

love you,

serious

without all your

fear.

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Fire!

I wake up every morning

- again I wake up -

and plot against the world,
infamous
enemy to take out.

eyelids open

and opens fire

on everything

up everywhere

I

I was

still you.

Sniper

desperate

look for you among the people,

kidnapped my love,

and fear look

these hostages
sad and alone,

the same as me

alarm kissing

in your place.
- Fire! -

I am music
interrupted

by a cry of pain,

are cries of pain

covered by gunfire

shots and muffled now

a happy song.

And die of inertia,

in this useless war,

hit from a distance
by you that you can not,

from sleep and the desire

not ever wake up.

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not care and not to die in heaven

Indifferent is heaven,

his gaze is distracted,

you can remove the sound

decided to walk your

who could not hear them,

that so I

only,

your every step,

jolt of pain,

and the thrill of a moment

Executioner is a

killing me.

Indifferent is heaven

to you that you walk away,

and like you,

me no longer cares

this false friend and

ungrateful

look at him, and he turns around.

And my life let

with doors and windows open,

even turn off the lights,

've turned off only me,

I look at the sky,

bastard traitor

meat my defeats,

the 'hole in my soul

reflect and

blinded,

killer as larks.

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order not to die in

other

me search

expect it to be day

to laugh with the sun.

And I open locked doors,

and holes and cracks

close,

embroidery initials

of those who have not begun,

yet.

order not to die in

surplus of scrap,

my memories dough

to sample new ones.

Suspended on a rope,

with too many tight knots,

Walking tall,

not to fall,

never .

order not to die in,

drawing words

cots,

silence,

I leave macerate.

and digging new case,

and bury bodies,

between the sheets tired

to be washed,

yet.

order not to die in,

I seek you in the other,

appearance that night,

love

to get lost in dark.

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syndrome

M'invento beginning,

- every day

chase the sky -

to beat in advance

this dehydrated

race

than usual live

being in the circle,

a walk with color

(walking with pain),

soaked in every corner

of his career in journalism.

Syndrome,

unusual symphony

evil of a poet,

the beginning of the end,

the end each principle.

And the alternation

look

hearts and seasons,

of priests and whores,

between dreams and cemeteries.

And I write for concern

not to sing in chorus,

and say everything

not to die

whole .

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flakes and lumps

Dissolved in

most secret essence,

lifeless resume

surface

flakes and lumps,

I can not share my

mix

with the rest of

noble appearances

high.

I am a rock

affecting

the window,

and brings with her broken glass

pieces

any certainty vain

and any binding promise.

I

collector

between the soul and

the deep

the key and

the latch that closes

each step.

flakes and lumps,

exhausted

resume,

in this life with double bottom,

port and with my kicking

facing the wind,

the desire to

dismiss

tears.