Cuando tengas frío.

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, November 24, 2011



Usa mi llave cuando tengas frío,
cuando te deje el cierzo en la estacada,
hazle un corte de mangas al hastío,
ven a verme si estás desencontrada.

No tengo para darte más que huesos
por un tubo y un salmo estilo Apeles
y páginas anémicas de besos
y un cubo de basura con papeles.

Ni me siento culpable de tu lejos,
ni dejo de fruncir los entrecejos
que usurpan de tus ojos la alegría,
si quieres enemigos ya los tienes,
pero si socios buscas ¿cuándo vienes
a repartir conmigo la poesía?

No words can

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Friday, November 11, 2011


Today I woke up with an urge, like many others, of reminding you just how perfect you are.

And as I proceeded to make a note, I found it difficult to describe you. Beautiful? You're not beautiful, a spring's flower is beautiful, it makes me smile and feel warm in the chest. But you, love, you shorten my breath, make a cosmic explosion of happy thoughts in my head and spin my soul with your sole gaze.

But which words if not?

Gorgeous? Breath taking? Wonderful? Fantastic?
They were all words that described the ocean, a parisian night, colorful art, love poems, the deep woods. These words have meaning, but they are used for nice things that make me happy, but they cannot compare to you. It would seem words to describe beauty have become rather common . And love, you're everything but common.

I see you, I feel you, I touch you and I want to climb to the moon and reflect it upon you so everyone could look at you in all your courage, your freedom and grace. Then all the nonesense in the world would finally stop, I'm sure now.

But maybe I'm too selfish my love, because I wouldn't share you. And maybe that''s the end of me, of us, me wanting you so much, loving you too much. But darling, how could anyone not?