I passed on the same street of the canal, the abandoned factory with three piles closing the road, with its noise at night and it sank stoned lantern in the darkness around it, in the dark just ran over that the same streets of that child one day and not wake up.
saw nothing and saw it all mixed up with the future humiliated past, the past perverted by his not wanting to be or have been wanting to play in the future. The weather was hiding in doorways and stick his tongue out at me every step. A coated tongue teasing and long as life. I walked in the shadows and crevices of that old neighborhood. I was not afraid or if I had and that was fear. Your smile.
factory complained and were with her cats. It was a sweet noise factory grandmother, life retracted backwards, as if waiting for what came lingered. Were black cats with their tails tread life and bruised around the rubble of the industrial chimney. The factory had long since been demolished. In its place was now a community center, a cultural container called him to not call anything.
The channel was not already, but I followed her, balancing, playing to tread the line not to fall, not to think about themselves or not. My friends were in the usual place with his teeth pressing talks and believe blindly groping want, understand the thousands. They played the tobacco and put names to things. I approached them and wanted to chat, play games, but each of them looked at me and said one word of those who swim underwater without hearing anything, without saying anything, and each of them turned, smiled, left, left me with the word submerged in the water and came up to my neck and my head swam in their words Boobies fish, blind and dumb, tickling me in the eyes and swallowed hard not to mourn. They all went. I felt cold and anxiety and an arcade all the fishes rose out of my mouth. Fell into the ditch and remained there without saying anything. They were just words.
After the canal was a wall of medium height and the wall behind the railroad tracks. The wall was full of Masons and requetés painted. Also one that said: "Bartolo Carmen fucks the "and another saying," Why I can not be with the one I want? "and I thought it was a very sad and full sentence of west, which is to say that" or " mate and son. I jumped the ditch and I climbed the wall to get right to "or" me. I touched it with his knuckles and the little one opened. Come in.
Within the "o" was still darker than outside, so that the second bump on the head I decided to kneel and crawl with the utmost care. Smelled hollow buzzing or echoing everywhere. Was in a tunnel too narrow and very long. In the background loomed a trickle of light. I changed in that second position and spent more than three hours of crawling as the light grew larger until it was light and the "o" or the tunnel no longer existed and I fell into a very white light and sticky to me covered up to swallow a kind of porridge with a strange taste of vanilla. In the bottom of that huge gap as a platform jutting land. I swam with great difficulty over there and when I got to it. It was as infinite as the white lagoon, as black as the infinite and so full of words like love to come. Words clitoris licking each other, piled intertwined and lascivious moans of pleasure calling to accompany their fake orgasms. I realized I had to bathe in semen of letters and felt a little sick.
I started kicking the words, to trample until their pain and moaned moans one, burst on the inside, he said: "Literature can not be distracted," and I gave him reason and I kept kicking until stopped moaning and continued making my way to the platform, kicking and reading a book upside down, where I could read: "The allomorph in my view is reflected in yours" and took a misstep and fell through a hole of blue eyes cliff and fell with the book is tightly holding the flaps and dropped all my life falling down and moaning and begged not know who to wake up when it reaches the bottom, you wake up and I woke up and kept falling to the book grabbed by the lapels, I kept falling and I woke up and kept falling down and the bottom there was nothing, just over the ditch, my friends back to me, the factory in ruins, life upside down. I wanted to wake up. Sleep. Power to dream again.
I begged a few grams
shadows of darkness.
And the crowd
borrowed a bit more solitude. Shouting
asked quietly,
calm to the city. Calling by name
sleep,
it came quickly.
had seventeen broken mirrors above the altar. Reflecting
that part of ourselves we try to hide.
was an imaginary map,
a book without end.
The path was already traced
and something kept us from walking. I can not remember ever
how just dreams. After waking
fade and lose them.
I can not remember. I can not remember ever
...
dreams. Dreams. How
just dreams.
on ashes and broken promises
stained dawn.
My sorrows and my bones float
between paper airplanes. Seventeen
teddy bears are looking for something to believe.
graves Seventeen Seventeen clouds
try, but I can not run. I can not remember ever
how just dreams. After waking
fade and lose them.
I can not remember. I can not remember ever
...
dreams. Dreams. How
just dreams. I can not remember ever
how just dreams. After waking
fade and lose them.
I can not remember. I can not remember ever
...
dreams. Dreams. How
just dreams.
(091: "I just dreams")
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