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of nowhere Why so similar?

is equal to you, but a woman. The hungry look, his head full of birds, the course undefined.

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But what fucking year. Today is 4

could not wait to arrive on December 31 blessed: D
However, I can not say I have only complaints regarding happily highlight 2007. Always good things are rescued in bad, and those good things are often best, because they are saving you have only bad memories of a period. That is, are the positive motivation that encourages you to continue living in a real pile of shit widespread ...
I have met many people during this year. Rather nice people, people, bull, person-boomerang and people-persons. Transparent people and people somewhat opaque, and the mirror a bit muddy People also invisible, which in 2006 would never have thought it would disappear.
During this year, I've also learned a lot. I learned to listen. To find motives even where none exist. To defend itself.
But what most certainly have done, has been learning to compromise. I found that everything is more enjoyable.
Please show me.
way, do not know if I get inside of people-people or invent a new type of person that best fits you. Or maybe you're not a person may be speaking idiotic and does not fit all. Yes, I like you anymore.

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And every time go faster. Escape from my hands, tangle on the road. But when I look back, I know I have not missed any detail.

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RETURN.

S / TEMuntañola.

tapabas mouth when you talk

like you're smoking,

as if you hide your teeth,

as a predator spotless

repentant

and the limit of your hand

allowed to see the limit of your mouth

coming of death.

Exile crossed your soul up and down,

billed you skin

hope, forgetting

locked himself in the place you sleep

where grows the sand and the bitter sea.

I looked inward

to see the folds,

-what-you said no,

with the meekness of one who loves you well

and fears nothing you, or imposed.

And the night fell in the street

wanted to take you upstairs,

vines down

sunflowers without light

place beyond my sight.

An appropriate word, a gesture,

moisture from the rain, quick goodbye,

the essence

that

again did not get to your soul.

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FOR AIR.

Excerpt ST. E. Muntañola

widens light in the sky.

I turn words in favor of air.

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LANDSCAPE WITH FIGURES.

The cold goes beyond our gaze.

not speak of himself. Arrives. Defines the ground.

Cold is a painting of Goya

which will never retreat,

the wind always blow

and stones may even shelter.

is a look near death.

is like not having your body,

is shattering.

this neglect is in the heart,

falling afternoon alone, without gaps,

and no words or wit, or even storm.

The cold is not loving. Go to your eyes and do not find them.

just has color. No taste.

Attaches to members, the soul, God's crust.

The man who knows the cold trying to remove their glasses.

The woman, barefoot, bare on the damp ground

when the cold is already inside. Not seen.

And near death, he looks cold.

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reach the sea.

exist without light in another body? What
queda dentro del olvido?

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molds.

El tapial blanco
reverberando azul de la estación de Santa Eugenia.
La hierba sobre el tapial,
alta, verdinegra.
El alma opaca,
en tránsito, como el aire sobre el tapial
y el cielo en medio de la nada,
abriéndose paso.

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DISTANCE. FRAGILITY

Ahora, de lejos, entiendo tus palabras
- aquellos silencios vagos, poderosos -.
Es claro y tibio este invierno,
hermosa soledad para embriagarse,
mágica tierra de nadie que creeremos hacer a nuestro modo.

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.

Sé que el invierno está aquí
behind this door. JOSÉ HIERRO


afternoon brings me
defeat and there is a distant voice facing
mine tangled in the fight
cold and distant memory.

There are days when we should leave us.
There are days too fragile, they break us.

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OBLIVION.

blackbirds sing on the new elms.
Madrid, dust and light.
always the same gray look up.

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OF LOVE AND MEMORY.


The memory of my body on your body is the sea, also the skin
is salt and coral,
the mouths of fans rush out and return the heart

eroded by the kisses that have not been.

Through the eyes of old arena,
near the sea, I held your breath, no light
coast, glorious cliffs to get rid
;

-all in love is some sea-

how otherwise explain his return
his leg, his waves,
strange spells, his misfortune. Amarte

was embarking on a dream of algae would feed me
perfect shells,
had your life, you were my death,
also had something deep;
eventually obscured by evergreen maze
and it hurt the heart of love and helplessness. Amarte

was looking for a continent to a continent
, discover a shipwreck teñirnos
blue and green the soul,
build an ocean to our knots.

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DEPARTURE.

(...) fáltame
the fire of hope, with
used to walk on the dark region of your forgetfulness.

GARCILASO


This statue is too cold too white

too dead.


But I see even from the cold and pallor
death.

When I leave here I'll even
a look of plaster.

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Harder, faster, forever after.

my heart beats escaped my throat and no power left in peace to my senses.

I stood on the brink, and the two seconds he was back on land.