The truth is I do not know why I am writing this. At first, it is for you, but in reality, is to read it you feel like reading it. Not for anything special, or because in reality this is not for you, because yes, it's for you, but because this is me for you being together or not in the same place, but because lately I'm being to you forever. Lately I'm being for you everywhere, on sidewalks, in the dry leaves that make me think that we are in autumn, on the walls and shutters at the entrance to a house in a waiting room, music I hear, but, above all, the music I play. Am I to you because I walk and every step made in the world your name, because the first thing I look at when I look at is what reminds me of you, what you in a fruit in bite out you I give this fruit, fruit juice expand pleasantly through my mouth, for my palate, the fruit pieces that jump into my mouth, thus reducing more and more, every second less fruit and more than one thing, feeling fresh any fruit to be something new that is not fruit all over my body. Why not a kiss?, Many words wasted in what could be kisses ... So many good memories desaprobechada could be good memories.
Who steals the minutes, who steals our oxygen molecules, our sweat, who robs the mind of another, What's misunderstanding leads to the translation, the means of transport to the bar of beer at our home, the home we built to be just us, who leads us as we build what they built another, the isolation which means not being able to share our loneliness?. I need you after hearing a song, a cigarette every time I press a cigarette to fall off the ashes. I need you when I wake up, when I have hunger, when I wear my glasses, I need to drink you when my mouth is dry from smoking. Yesterday we were you and me and the world around us. When the pain seemed to pleasure and eyes, blind and dumb mouths, and deaf ears, my nose, breathed in the silence we were, only, you and me.
I want to take a second to always tell you where and you do not leave me. I want you to dive into the ocean of my words, in the twilight of my movements, in the eruption of my senses. I wake up and you're really want your body pressed against mine. I want your eternal perfume, I want it on my clothes, my hair, my body in my bed in my house. I want to live in the home we build with our bodies. I want your breathing in my ear, I want my breathing in your ear. I want your cold to go around my fire. I want your fears to kill them with my poison.
When one of the chords of my guitar sounds out of tune, when sleepless nights become vice nights when the sun is delayed to emerge one minute and laugh the ghosts and demons and terror embraces the cheeks of the more softly, when this happens, I'm looking for. You look at me look like a pillow when I wake from a dream, as I look to my fancy, like a hug appeared as if by magic. Do not know why I started writing this and I still do not know. It's a Saturday night, I'm just listening to music I always listen when I write a while ago I smoked the last cigarette, soon I guess I'll go ask my sister and I do not know why I'm writing this. I think perhaps that is another way to get you, wish you and touch you do not know, or yes, I look, I want you, I touch.
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