Sorry I neglected for a few months the web but the reality of work and other imponderables has forced me to focus for a few weeks in another direction . I remember being in an article in which Mr. Burroughs said that many women do not take a step forward by mistrust on support they will receive, for fear of not receiving the solidarity of those around you. That message that nothing suspicious postman shows the real reality. That is the truth buried invisible we still have not managed to unearth. We say look, we ask them to give voice to their silence, that his life is noisy, so tell them they can unzip their life and fly through the air that pushes the vane. We say ...
Come here
born every noise and grab the stair treads
to those windows where only one enters,
where only sadness
swaying but where we hope you come,
wide open the wire
veils and wring the cars to lull your dreams, those who dress
where fairies naked
dissipating in the gaps of your holes
Come here forget the dust from the chipping
are tied raindrops when sparks
and not limed the echoes of meadow flowers,
forget and remember the walls of thorns
but here the sun tile stained
and no spaces are filled up with anchors of mint,
yes, we know guns that kill the soles
yes, we know that the waves can have a
but your silence you hear
time auctions and where they are always so far
see, speech and unveil escurrete when the petals, the flowers
irrigation water
off your shoes after walking over puddles,
see, you'll be the princess of the alleyways of the apprentice
cloth kites waiting for the wind ,
see, talk and look at with the light on really
where salty tides
saved and not put syllables of land to sirens
Come, do not cross your hands when they enter the shadows,
see, that flooding glass and shoots his touch
ls rains, moons and dawns
fade and soak up the nakedness of thirst,
see phrases tell the fog that slides
tell ... now want to unbutton your life
and fly through the air that pushes the vane. © www.quieroayudarte.com
