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Air of paperIn the backspace of your lines,
i just moved to the next ones..
of the next paragraph,
like a fresh start,
at the period apart of your interests,
of my dictation(s) and your callygraphies
of appearance and your rules..
We just erased our past,
confiscating our present,
to the less guilty of the foreign feelings,
that reason and my hierarchy of the indomitable and the basic,
we searched an answer,
but we found the gap, in the middle,
between your hands and mine..
In your monument, lifted up,
the waterfalls of your tears,
just represent my oversight,
and you, just a moment in the past,
of a amnesiac future where my memory forget you,
and I, remembering you.
There, in the point of light,
made it between each neuron,
we asked "why?".
Over there, in the middle of brightness,
our private moment was alone,
withe closed eyes, and you breathing in my mouth,
and my breath in your ears,
we discovered that the night is blind,
and morality is an impertinent at the sin.
Taking away the bandage of my
Papel de aire, aire de papelEn el retroceso de tus líneas,
he pasado al siguiente renglón..
del párrafo siguiente,
como borrón y cuenta nueva,
en el punto aparte de tus intereses,
de mis dictados y tus caligrafías,
de la apariencia y tus reglas..
Hemos borrado nuestro pasado,
confiscando nuestro presente,
al menor culpable de los sentimientos ajenos,
aquella razón y mis jerarquías de lo indomable y lo básico,
buscábamos la respuesta,
pero encontramos al vacío, en medio,
de entre tus manos y las mías..
En tu monumento, erguida,
las cascadas de tus lágrimas,
solo significaban mi olvido,
y tú, solo un momento pasado,
de un futuro amnésico donde mi memoria te olvidaba,
y yo, recordándote.
Allí, en el punto de luz,
creado entre cada neurona,
nos preguntábamos "por qué?".
Allá, en medio de la claridad,
nuestro momento privado era sólo,
con los ojos cerrados, y tu respiración en mi boca,
y mi aliento en tu oreja,
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More