Categoría: Ava

No chance, you’ll never do it right
but there is a brilliant hope.
She won’t notice your dumb words,
at least not for today,
but, just in case she doesn’t realize,
you insisted, sent a request.
No time to stay low,
you had to let her know,
you’re the one and only,
no help needed.
Crown your damn fingers
with a touch of antiseptic sense,
avoid any contact with the net
and don’t get fooled by the pics.
She won’t notice until late
that you did it again.

Dreaming of not being strangers.

Exposing your intimacy,
only for eyes, lost privacy,
no sense, no fear to ridiculousness,
just fall and rise,
for the sake of eternity.
Days are gone, words are said,
but you are still on your own,
strong, unaffected and immersed
in a sort of true human
and obvious absence of yourself.
Stay ahead, play it again
only to regret, once more.
There is no chance, not now.

And then it happens,
you get a polite, bitwise
smile in a blue envelope.
A kind of miracle, late on night,
you weren’t expecting
anything related, why in the hell
should it be revealed to you.
Now it feeds expectations
for sun rising debates
on lost souls and missing parts,
may be someone can fix them.
Time will care and you’ll be fine
having chances and doing it right.

A los domingos, inesperados y elocuentes.

Ella, lo que se dice un alma fous, te puede llevar a recorrer algo más que la simple osadía de vivir.
La puedes encontrar, un momento, fija y quizá perdida en una querencia absurda, pero no por ello habría que lastimarse y padecer alguna suerte de simpatía, no parece que sea ese el deseo cuando en efecto se pierde en ti, y te absorbe.
Ella no es de esas, las que te devuelven una imagen copiada de lo queda vivo en ti cuando te miran, ni de las que no aprueban tus errores mientras evades promesas y equivocas gestos, no, ella te permite fundir una pequeña muestra de la infamia en que te desenvuelves con la realidad que sus tacones maltratan.
Y te gusta, pero preocupa reconocerlo y más aún adquirir la conciencia necesaria para admitirlo.
Esa indómita y brillante femme que se desenreda a tu lado envolviendo pecados en gloriosas conquistas al pudor mientras yaces, tan vencido como incrédulo, entre los pliegues de su risa y las curvas de su vientre.
Sabes, y lo sabe, mejor que nadie y mejor que nadie más lo sepa, pero no alardea, deja que objetes, finjas e incluso admitas que podría aniquilarte sin siquiera proponer una derrota cuando tú ya estás vencido.
Es simplemente mujer.

She put a spell on me
and she knows, for sure.
A smile, a look, she won.
I surrender, again,
a deep breath, a sigh,
time to be near.
Some words, not to me,
but her lips, reding me,
signs of my time, lost
on the tide of her waves.
No way to save our souls
neither my comfy living.
Take me apart,
throw away my disguise
and challenge me to be
on my own.
Your time, my fault,
your smile, my fears.
Sinking five feets down
much to notice, heavy feets.
Still you look on me,
I’ll swim all waters
but please let me know
if you’ll swim with me.
This are no troubled waters
only a small river, no bridges,
you have to get the other side
between you and me.
Too much unknown past
too much they, he, she,
yesterday.
May be a bit of you and me
just to make a difference,
a new bright morning.
No regrets, no reasons,
but a smile on your spell.

I know, it was only “Hi, how you are”
but … what else do I need?

A las lunas de Febrero y los castillos encantados