I want my hands to be hot iron and that your skin desires my touch, I want you to be dust and my fingerprints to be the evidence that condemns me.

I want you to be in the Bible as sin and to be bathed in holy water because I want you to be everything that was ever forbidden and kills me. Because you have an ice cream smile in the sun and the voice of the gospel of the church. But I want you to be an unspeakable pain, that the penitence doesn’t compare to the blessing of knowing your taste and scent. 

Since I’m willing to put my chest in front if that wins me a little more time because I want to hear you recite the entire dictionary in order to have your ghost in my memory. 

I want you to drive me mad and for all my art to be a reflection of your gaze in oceans that don’t get storm clouds and I want my lips to be bathed in your acid so as to never kiss other than you. 

TA.

Everything lights out, steps walking away and back in the form of a torn soul, and I’m crying without tears. 

Because the way it's built is how there isn’t enough to make crumbles, since all is smoke and curtains made of bombs that don’t look for survivors. Because I was made from a human mind without consciousness other than the echo of the destruction that is lights out, knees to the chest and defeated eyes. 

TA.

Lets raw everything up

It's the balance between everything and nothing

It’s why it's called a club

It’s that only the ones with a key get in

And it’s heartbreaking knowledge that shouldn’t have an explanation

Just inhale and understand that there are things that the times don’t change

And you see My Love I do not regret because I know everything and I know nothing and if you saw Into my eyes there would be a smile in tears because the narration is all the guessing that you need and

Let’s put everything on the table 

They know everything and deny everything because there is happiness and conformity and need in it

Because they have the understanding of the one given up for dead in a blizzard, and they don’t know loneliness in company but in synonym

However My Love

The truth is that you understand everything and I nothing.

TA.

What I like is the second arrested

Head back and the blue blue blue sky

And I only want this instant

Where the clouds are pale and cotton and are peace with promise

And everything is stopped in romance, so it’s pink, so it’s perfect and beauty

And I’m enchanted in a silence without words

The people are of Sunday on a Monday

The cars are a lullaby

And I’m in love with this moment

Everything is stopped and there isn’t another breath, everything is first with last poem

And there is no past when there is present

And it’s idiotic

But I want

this

this

THIS

TA.

Wake up girl, you’re an adult now and childhood dreams are a waste of time, put on the suit and load the rocks in your backpack that it’s time to grow up. Make dust of your wishes and sell your soul for a little green that to live from happiness doesn’t bring profit. 

So girl, kill that bullshit that you have in your mind that made you believe that with sparkles and ideals you’ll get anywhere in life because that’s for fools, and you’re an adult now. You are to whom you answer, so stand up straight that it’s time to march to the sound of the heels and shoes, put on the dead eyes look and listen to the clock that guides you until Friday. 

Because girl we are no longer children, we are no holiday, nor are we stories, now we are after the: “They lived happily ever after” and you have to start to bleed a little if you want to stay around.

TA.

I’m a hummingbird, a vine of lovers, a leaf in the wind, a bird in the rain, I’m the nervous eyes no one sees, but everyone feels. 

I’m the definition of a stalker and a writer, I’m sitting in the centre of the square, watching life dance around me. Seeing the couple that hugs in the kiss of honeymoon, the friends that laugh with the cell in their hands, the dancers that dance the chacarera lost in memory and the people working for money that only keeps them alive, but doesn’t bring joy. 

And I find that I’m the witness of the bible of this world, I’m the ego at the centre of the world, that I’m the cat gazing at its prey and hoping to win the empirical victory. Because I’m a writer, and I’m a waster, I’m the one who sees the running, the walking and braking of all those lost steps. The slipping of leaves in front of tired eyes, the falling of cups between nervous hands, the untying of shoelaces in broken snickers.

I am the seeing, seeing, seeing of how everything ends because I’m who professes the seeing to have of what to talk about. So I am more the silent thief, the killer without prints, the one with ink for eyes and the desire of telling your lives before mine.

TA.