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Your love vibrates in the waters of  my heart,  play your music, your lullaby,  and in your bosom let me rest, while you my darling, caress my head. You, the pillars of my life, the golden cup, the laurel crown, I, the slave of your love, the one who abandons his own, the one who cannot exist without submerging his head in the goldens  of your hair, in the slumber of your tranquility, in the mountains of your breasts. You my goddess, what am I to be without you? a simple decaying soul that even the sun denies to shine upon, you my calmness, who tames my enraged spirit for war,  that cruel one that distorts the heart and the soul. You the one I love with all my might, the one I care during the blazing sun and starry nights, you my sunrise sung by birds, my sunset bathed in red and gold with a dagger that cannot hurt. At the gallop of my beast my heart stirs, beholding the wind as it gently caress the sun of your hair, the whiteness of the moon is poured on you, a...

My words, they are like a whirlwind, uncontrollable and so capricious. Some of them i must find a way to keep them at bay, otherwise...they'll hurt someone for they are so sharp and cold at times and at others they're as if they were bathed in honey and sprinkled with nut bits, they actually feel very springy... and I miss those ones, specially when they need to be written. So I just let myself go, I let myself be drowned by them and I summerge and become their slave. They are the body of the imagination, hopeful, dull and fascinating. I guess they are the right combination as nothing should be uniformed, but rather a little of everything here and there to make and construct a perfect form.  These words, those words, palpitating in my head, begging to be set free drill my soul and as soon as I release them, a combination of satisfaction and sadness invade my senses, simply because they shape up a dream, and in that moment they become real, they become an alternate reality of wh...