Sand clocks that scratch discs defending my own

Throbbing pride and anxiety. And the heat, not to think, believe, learn that he had his her own life and the other ones, other own in her dreams, prefixed, in front of him. All of that, it was spreading in salt, while the flooded head produced restraint, sex; ears full of each of the two words that made him hesitate, she and her eloquence, they doubted of the words of the expression of feeling.
And every single person who wished to leave, drowning, attacked contacts. Meanwhile, I dream, watching you sweat and speaking to a deaf man in love with groans that can give the excitement of seeing a sleep, to learn and be learned, known, trusted.

About this entry

  1. Cristina 5 de julio de 2010, 8:04

    Mmm me gusta mucho este texto, y me gusta tu forma de escribir (:

  2. Cristina 5 de julio de 2010, 8:22

    Tuenti: Cristinaa Polo Vázquez (:
    (sí, con dos as)

    Y tú inglés está bastante bien, pero no es para leerlo con traductor !

  3. desu 9 de julio de 2010, 15:35

    te diré que no me apetece pensar, la noche me confunde... pero bueno, que me acordé de esto, leí, y al ser inglés, me cuesta más que normalmente, ¿será que es más difuso?
    pues eso, que ya me pondré con aquellos textos, descifrando poco a poco, capa por capa, como si se tratasen de cebollas (;