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Winter is coming ...

soooo
Well after time without writing here for personal reasons, seeing the trailers and images that come out of Game of Thrones series is enough to encourage me to do them here and pass comment that I read last 4 books that are currently published. I'm already looking forward to the fifth and to see the series that already gave the green light and every time it looks better.

These are the official photos that have come so far, including one with Sean Bean as Eddard Stark (awesome) with Ice and over to Emilia Clarke as Daenerys (nice) with Silver .




And among the videos that we have left the first 2 teaser trailer painted very, very well:




A video
"making of" (subtitled in English)



And another q are programs for HBO, including the Game of Thrones q and we can see a little Eddard Stark on one of the first scenes of the book (beginning and end of the video.)



already makes my mouth water, keep posting what comes out of the series and I hope to write more ...

Itchy Meningitis Rash

Flying Serpent In My Desvelos

(Guardian of foams)

love to the sea the river is snake heaven
reflected on their scales ,
by bridges
long complaint about not finding more of the world of feelings.

The sea is thought in the thirst of your tooth,
my life resembles his course, swimming
because his being of himself looking away
finally encouraged him to flee. Towards the moon

have to fly over it,
blue snake with a thousand eyes that loves the bottom
in his dreams night calm.

Until then observe a star, I watch for if you fly
every hour so you do not miss
Bilbao which is its soul.

Lifetime Fitness Cost Of Membership

In The 7 th Heaven

(Polyphonic Natura)
A
Constance

not find the hand that I write. Will be saying farewell to the winter with his hat that hides a given dwelling, sealing a deal with the time with a handshake or caressing of your body since yesterday. Behind the words there cloches, and within children playing hide and seek. They mean nothing. Smugglers hide in secrecy as Dreams and Magic. Play dress up when it cries pierced the cloud by the sword of the sun to light a cigarette, or forbid you run out and my shadow behind me, to play the yellow and green marbles and catch butterflies in a jar so over placebo as the Sagrada Familia, Miró, Dalí, Malevich , or orgasm. Maybe
doing finger and stopped a van full of fireflies and cicadas landing exchanging kisses by applause in the slums of seals on a ball that ran away from home, always attentive to the traffic lights in amber, but with what voluptuousness burn your hair, and those lips like yours sweet grapes, plump as a sip of light, unforgettable Like a glass of wine under the stars that pulsate against a black sea accordion spring night. Perhaps with his fist raised in a general strike for the rights of wheelchairs, or with the peace sign in front of military barracks of boredom empty chair. Anyone knows, is an expert in capturing shooting stars and the same would have been arrested and are clocking their fingerprints. What will become of me! Not return to an alliance, or zero rapen me ..
was born on the door has been touched. To look back is to leave a snitch. Always write a sentence crossed out at the time. Nobody knew what it was. He would hang himself, but then for a little while would the owner, and he did not bear. No, no ..
The Silence of the residence is impossible defiled by the God who never lets you talk, so big and strong you are. How I love you! But how! You are more of us. Diminishes us, return the child to viudeces, uterus, not wedding, the circle that is everything.
When you look at the situation of moving around the corner from the left or right, you've noticed, you choose the former, which makes you feel strangely left-handed, if you get to something. By the way, what is to come? Would Ya?

Because I have 30 odd years and more, and I got in your eyes and lips and blood fall, breasts and hands, soles and tximbos; your belly and thighs moon rose and streams, your legs and feet, clouds without a homeland. This is just one more paragraph, it hurts it hurts in your ceiling that never sleeps and dreams of all forms in your work.
They say no, no, no, and not, period
the last word, whatever, to stop writing, to make love with the blade, which fornicate like animals, be myself. Do not say anything, do not understand. And if they succeeded and there is not a pot of December in the amount of mirrors, or areas that do not stop rolling in the air, or migratory birds that warn us that we are what we are, that we step like them.

Beloved be the Alphabet, it is, and everyone. Dreams are loved, they are. Beloved are the tears of victory are. Beloved secrets, confidences, Beloved. Beloved are the lovers, are provided. And these words are Amadas Clerk, to my regret, that not have all the time, for what dictates Laicono, Soul. Boarding


-G19

(Thanks to Mike Varas)

Good Vegetable Side Dish

Enaltación toward your Candles (Monologue Interrupted)

(My Amatxis)

Today I want to mourn and LOSEP all. That under my feet

travelers passing clouds, I have in my eyes two red moons,
two, and that spring floresmilenarias through my tongue latitudes. Give

unatarde of showers for my shoulders accustomed

elaliento that I die in a wooden case. And do not olvidesde
me, and my shadow is cast on

lágrimasde yours with candles that lit the corners of divine
beds. Tudu Dreamer, you sleep, that someday
balbucearásmi cradled in magic name for your
lips without origin, delivered portus lips, your lips
alo able to say goodbye to me has died. And how well my ink sinks sintimones
in this sea so deep. Only one of tusyemas
with envy at the Venus
cave of Apollo, while my voice is lost in the summer of your hair
constant, but converted back noquiere
stars Aztecs. Sonta beautiful pyramids
your elbows ... all the alphabet lasletras
secret I mean, whispers Volandes up to kiss them
difuntas.Así tabs, love of my centuries, thus baptize by siemprecon
sap your inner word. Today

sometimes afraid your game inthe train heading to the Northwest

my forgetfulness, but my kiss of syllables insomniacs rooted in your bocamilagrosa
awaits you in your mouth miraculous
pielcariñosa'll find in your pillow, you
dawns on the mirror of another day.
From
Poloniasonámbula the first time I saw you, I Tellam. And come, come to the fire of my soul
DeSUS not consumed vines are bare and your
first word, you take the throne passionate vein of my left hand
, you venfelina to scratch my solitude of
Polyphemus, you see aarropar Well my childhood with poppies
Holland, morirmecon see your love life, are guarded by océanoscelestes
, come with closed eyes to find my corazónque
beats the shadows, the shadows,
and now ...

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Pasional Bilbao

could kill you. Salesy know what time you when you return to your home each día.Descubro feigned relief perfume essence the sign of thy bowels in cualquierotro memory. If you look in the eyes, if I were to read the lips, it would sound with the sculpture of my intention seríanecesaria not even last the dawn sky in front of unotoño delirium. I could kill you. Whisper your soul in the middle of the street and head alvolver ordered my voice, you see only black niñasdesnudas burying her dolls. I could kill you. Each nochete lick your mouth while you sleep, you do not know, and tuvientre left on a lit purple candle to be consumed before dawn deque before, because it is unfathomable and pure alviento belongs. Matarte.Hacer could slip poisoned by my silence, a tear of old to the vicious circle of your glass bleeds prohibited, perhaps as the best evidence that delatemi presence and shadow weapons sinraíces an unruly country. I could kill you. Sigh await the final lospuentes scorch every dungeon in this language and finally to gemirteal ear while you sleep, darkly beautiful, you do not know, Lamus inviolable the resurgence of the best of sins. Podríamatarte. I hate to say how much I love you old lover, mientrassueñas cry and triumph in the palaces taken so that it jamástengas memory to remember only waking pájarosde bones flying about your childhood, so that seems not hasvivido. could kill you. stoned while you sleep and laspuertas window in your bedroom and throw snakes at the foot of your bed a place beforethe last brick of gold and listen later, sinolvido, behind the walls, each of your words on waking Aviv as the fire in cathedrals of the sky, blinded debarrios low heels, more helpless to scream delabandono.Podría

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Toccata And Fugue

quisistehacerte

With the word free and finished with the word being accused. Each set, please select rope with which you want to hang, and my voice too viejapara die. Is that groaned with the full force of the stings Alser buried by stars, which flew out of himself naked in Nomadic loscánticos covens, which ordered the decapitaciónde kings in palaces taken, which was sacrificed their blood yderramó Drinking wind, which opened the glow decofres defiled by the dark melody of rain, which never besópaisajes far and then wanted to come to rest in Susono. No other than meat drowned in the faith of his eco portemor to the same clouds. And death shall blind my entrañashasta will scorch my skin. Land that will shine for a momentocomo a diamond, like a wound in the shade, like a whip inthe wind, with all distances from the beating, and all I serésu open flower, which intoxicated with the aroma of all amoresque had the world, and all I will be your flower open.

Will They Take My Wedding Money Bankrupt

not there because they underestimate the Clouds

(unpublished)

SEEK TO FIND THE WORD

even if sleeping in the open, between depths, I do not care, I support the painful
finding when it turns its back door,
in your soul the flame of the gifts for years that it takes all
the shadows are waiting to be scraped by the yearning,
never touted the road enough to know how far,
like your kisses in the villages are full of gossip, I communed
few afternoons of sweet wafers of your breasts,
what to look to the sea if it has been wrecked in other meat,

now to undo the suitcase of a life would be all crazy, and decided
cloches sobornaré in the very death, while the nymphs alcoholic
sing their troubles better than ever, I do not fear for anything
empty inside and inside to call loudly,
at all afraid to dig my mind the same size as your body, and nothing
where there can only be unearthed live the sweet years of your name.

Wood And Corrugated Iron Fences

Testament

A Arnaiz and Langarika
.

Once committed elasesinato a tasty relapses, and how vast silence degated banquet meal today have again, after many centuries, my palabras.Bien tight knots, and ordered me to throw all losbotines the sea, but still did not give you one last kiss.
.

With just tocartepurgatorio. When remembering has become a bad habit, marched without any resistance to the overflow of floods, could crush the highest temples with only one step forward, I managed to put those fingers purple candles dim, peroarañaré your breasts but oh good finish, and your call will be as beautiful sinconsuelo as are the lights of a city and outside vistadesde next time. But let pieldel tattooed on signals of a fierce struggle and disappear, estrellafugaz, galleon down, hunted animal, rudeness acclaimed pobladode voices of passion and death pointless.
.

If lapolvareda drown I built my own blizzard, if I wash with milengua the lasting wounds of regret, if I de ser apedreado alatravesar el pueblo de un destino de leyes rancias, si he de morir desed sin alcanzar el oasis que mi ánimo presiente tan cerca, si he deperder el juicio y convertirme en la bestia enjaulada, irrisoria, quese exhibe en las plazas, si he de quedarme sin ojos por el ansia dehallar un paraje distinto al de la rendición, si he de desangrarme aoscuras en el día que aún nadie ha visto, sea ahora; ahora queestoy sembrado de emociones perennes y quisiera morir porque he dedar su nuevo fruto; ahora que leí en las vísceras de casi todas lascosas; ahora que heredé la pérdida, el fondo, lo improvisto, y unasgarras más incipientes; ahora, ahora que doy patadas en el vientrede vejeces fatales, ahora que agoto delas myriad possibilities excuses, now that I open my arms to receive reefs arrival of the secret meetings now last vestige
, walkway collapses, now I turn my spirit, chameleon, towards what will be thought, and which decided to give the future as a witness shot of other alliances, to his poignant melody, the eve of ads.
.

elnacimiento The name is first. At the mercy of being delivered from your labioscárdenos of sighs, my time is limited to a perpetual entierromientras that I cry that should not stop the fire, arrows quesiempre fall on the same slander, exile in the clear light models wild horses, do not exist . Not yet. Perhaps a recuerdoinhóspito that spread ash and leaves goodbye deavispas combs in the worst nightmares. And I became more cruel thief lossueños.

.
mizulo Now I retreat to the flooding and the magic as you leave with a timisma Devoid in the dark and silent ledo brothel, as undies eats only those who believe in him.
.

Name me once, tansólo once, to live at last my last
death.

Breasts Pms Vs Preganacy

Fermentation Del Silencio

Yatiemblo Glitter and

am flight of a guitar string underthe
murderer's fingers and I can now imagine your life
. Tomabascopas

absinthe with Poe once lived with Bosch and Mozartpensó
you when he wrote the Lacrimosa
. JimMorrison
and I kissed one of his concerts to quedarseciego Sawa
and stroked your face and smiled
and Henry Miller enseñóParís you a drink ;
spirit. Magritte painted deespaldas
you to undress in front of
night to remember your tristezaAlbinoni composed an Adagio
your eyes and your eyes and Camacho won
Pavese and Neruda.
spread the word in an epidemic of confusion barriocomo
spread the word in the neighborhood I'm still alive
deque. London

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First Overshadowing (7 years)

mereclama Today the background is not no, is in need of my naked laintemperie it occupies, which impregnates the long wind of long nails, and ojosque see in the dark green of the rain violins . Estoydispuesto to sink my left hand on the forgotten land paraacariciar Thy lips again, ready to stoning my voice and indomitable decaballo you to hear when you cry, and willing aatravesar the Milky Way in your desert with no more water than your remembering frescade. I lost everything in life goes in mibusca, and because I have the heart to dark, dark, nothing nadiepodría find.

Where Is The Third Relic In The Great Pyramid

Since we never saw from Florence (not to be not a not have been)

(unpublished)

I just left the sun in broad daylight just to see happen. In my soul there is nothing, but now I see. Trip and your laughter will be like the millions of light that opens the spring in their fields and mountains. I'll make a Baroque rum cream corrupt tired of raids, and ice punks, and kiss you 'hungry licking your lips, eating your word, and you, hugged me and made me stop with both hands green butterfly, because she slowly kisses like no other . Maybe we're sky and lake, darkness and rain, cloudy glass .. and if the day comes, do not worry, with no "goodbye" I'm content. Nobody is nobody. and I miss you, I scratch shadows and more shadows to see you ... and do not cry my dream, whispering sweet grapes of sweat in my ear, but I never go crazy for a woman a long time. Dreamy, here we can stop by star's eyes, by way of snow, mind insurgent. I do not care if they understand my language, will be studied, ja '! -Cantemus: "Fuck _, _ jod_ tell them that, tell them to jo_ _ _ a _ pu_ time ..."

music sounds of the night with open doors of his van, and upward arms, and gives palms and tour. now you can sobarle to taste the very same sky .. coming from the tip of the sea wave by wave, the relief requested white wells, and do not dare to take off your shoes .. on your own you, you're tired of make the fool, with one and other, so you walk lonely, not alone, your way. how your words hurt me when shut, and your silence when you cry, I wanted to die crushed by wild horses or tie with gold threads and coserte your pain with a kiss of love inside and throw it in the middle of the quicksand, and drown him on your dying. anyway, and gave me lashes with silence, the good thing is that when we met and we locked eyes! what a coincidence! The duck or look at the sidewalk in front, I do not however, I never long, and they will very sloppy and dull, at school, for them .. Language of Sweeper I happened to "what hunger I have to make love for centuries, my dream. " I am your oasis, you can see me or not. It is now up to you. With second and tell me now, palm, please.

horn is heard, cries, sί has dawned. Bagh! do not worry if they try to make you a hand, separate you, if you laugh, You see, there are many, many, many, many more, and we are few in their wake nosotros.Emily watches made noise and did not stop, and I feel uncomfortable all day on the back of the dragon. revolquémonos in the silks of our skin. yes, yes, the white sheet off the mirror to see me, and if no "Mulzer MESC" it a "divine buna" or "che mei facilitate" and so fucking everyone in his corner, living on nothing, where everything comes. and you remind me so I could not give. {This should have been written within a few years}.

will die together, please do not go to anyone. Go party. On the house. Do not miss Curro funeral.

I say goodbye with kisses crescent to undress slowly Uhhmmm, yes, The league is very thin green, going with the eyes. *.

I say goodbye to you knowing that I'm the one that goes .. .. There will be a swing, and a red bike. remind one not easily forgotten. "Rogue? She feels that every time I talk about the hands, smiles so selfishly and cynically as all notes. - Cut! To mount! Follow tomorrow!

Title: Behave Seristar Violence * Denotes full stop, but it changes the reader.

(Thanks Javier Aguirre)

Musical Friendship Bracelets

Blisters Breathing (Kneeling Impossible)

not ask me anything back suchas born dumb freckled by shooting as many walls as there
shows signs of hell for the back door where they shine
2espejos how bleak echoed in the abandoned well
what devient cup where all the rain would
Queca know what verse is finding the band that mummified his monster
heperdido now that the train he was traveling with his eyes Dulcinea
ash will have to wait 57 ahoraque years on a bag of tears hastaque
dawn tomorrow now that President Bush spent Porla Kunta Kinte radio anthem of Ethiopia
estanoche I seek the solitude life in the ghettos
mumbles the Larra abrigomojado
me feel better I do not seek this nocheenganchada to sleeping pills and glasses colony

Sappho meencontraréis not expected from me a century ago in a Street Dog pensiónde
although my feverish desire pocaspalabras lama in the favelas of Brazil
clockwise is cubriráncomo the lion and the tiger will give birth
other such madrugadasen which the heart never sleeps
sumorada heart chose not
stowaway in every breast from before birth
in black elmercado sold the soul of Pope John Paul II when Franco
doscatecismos of
id id to see but do not pongáislas
glasses nor those of Brecht Joyce never those of Quevedo
porqueentonces will see that smells like shit in every day task gloss
time man should not stop being mono
casinadie already read without a yawn that marriages
mate and schedules and mortgage porconvenios
that slums are the result of very poor delanalfabetismo emporium which seenriquecen
and tie me to the foot of the bed of a Basilisk ycierren after
and throw the door if they want after the seabed lasllaves matarile-rile-rile
if this escierto
that I want to hold you and love you my queen like estuviesesprohibida
if this is true in my breathing
hondaque drives to and returning wave
innocent and if all this are as true as that faith
wets the pantalonesincurables
and if all this
is true or the contrariotambién

Putting Things Inside Uterus

The poet writes to his friend Dreaming Soul Desperate Times

Accésit Platform June 29, 2010

Café Iruña

Estel

slumbers of the dream deferred
light soaking out. Mariposa
carnal magic on my skin that sits inside the burning
my side. Estel

waiting for his kiss given;
forward my mouth oh! which in itself is something
honey moon
that his most beautiful sea from the sky and more love.

and the world will want your green eyes, skin
your dream, your dream of birds. Female Voice
reddish love!

your voice the world will either lose
the bottom of nowhere, with his keys,
me at last to the end, my hours.

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Delirium (5:04 a.m. , lighted candles)

Before I die I want to see the rictus

my mouth and then close your eyes and shade my eyes mad as a kid I

expression

away from my face looks like you

hand with which I write has declined

made orphans

has returned to the old monkey do not stop

spiders leave my ankles

how lonely my lips kissed the lips of a daughter of Cid makes a second

brothel why I never never closes and

the dark night with no destination frayluiseliana advances

the runaway horse of tremendous waves that my heart lives in the OR to the

sorry my voice is dying in the guest room

how

and no term for unexplained burn without dating the date on which I am

and so far my old age of 81 years who do not respond and only

hear me mourn eternity Daphne's pain and despair

tear my eyes I want you to see really how I am in my voice without a grave

and come from far away from the wreck was confirmed that the ship of my existence and my

perversity exclamation point me out a baby tooth

and drown in the sky theological Narciso those lakes

the past and I sleep oh! I have been asleep ink the word death in 1374

How Long Can I Keep Gingerbread Dough?

Sublimation Del Ser (ancestors foam cot)

me I've tried all the poisons to make sure the taste away of my soul does not end in the letter Z. What other signs existence. But you, my life and immortal, Women ocean of passions, you're no longer you, not yourself, but not yourself. I sleep well, you ever so much, I think so much, now my time without your death has risen, has even parirte again, and how, what with endless beats you rewrote my world, and you the world itself, and in turn the universe, leaning toward the primitive desires that underlie eyelids moss, bent in the fire claimed he was born of a thought, footprints in the snow, pearls to a fund, rain behind the eyes, for all of the passing of a cloud which is, the circular female name of what is eternal.

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Venus Golden Tears (Prison of Love)

excited

your mouth my mouth with green olives breeze Athens Lovely
you bewitched me the air I breathe and then I know that after a couple islands
your nakedness and mine in these beds of roses in air and wind surfing in the afternoons
your hair dreams can not longer be charming evening of fireflies
and feathers down your being fired into my flesh networks
gold and if already in the heart of death given the strokes of my years
fever substitutes and if I read the fingertips the distant secrets of your skin takes

for you were born to my dearest ... stone was to confess to my way
horizons with glasses solitudes with catapults the wind with the rain shells
shoes because you're Dearest things because you're not
queens in ceremonies nomads who leave traces
because of naming you think everything is termed as
you but I know I disappear when I sink in your water rose
mad but do not bite more shade Dearest do not sleep
bees always returned to my mouth
already crossed the threshold of poets and never returned there
truth is that my word hits with lightning strikes with gales hit
with volcanoes in the uterus
universe already thrown down the spiral hook for the funeral of my silence closed eighth
but celebrate it oh yeah!
sing high the last oxygen in the seas of stylites prayers
then just give us a kiss n º 912,000 billion humanity BC
and you're well dearest to be the light always the one being impossible wish to discover the dark

when Superb walking barefoot do not forget to carry a tray in her hands
clouds not to miss the big dance in the world you've paged the bedrooms of your love

and although no longer love your lover gifts are not carnal body not only
and although
I no longer dream of glory in your flesh of the fruit not only not in our waking
are two wings to fly beyond the infinite

and you do to stop time when you go to bed in the lounge of the dummies at the dawn
Today is yesterday morning my Fabulous
you root sap of a land that elevates you to the homeless sleep on your heels up
fruit vines that perfumes the breeze nights
always celebrated in your thighs a river that touches everything that includes fruity cherry earrings
full moon asleep in the water of your sex in your belly rises
a shower of bells capable of brightening flakes and whispers of some sun

and only you do to stop time when pigeons descend from the cloud to drink your tears
stars yesterday today tomorrow will be an illusory
my skin are all butterflies that flutter when you get naked in a cell shaded boxes
closed inhabit your being planted in the magic constellation however
and marshes that beat in the skin of his drum world of rainbows and starfish and fish and only


you do to stop the time when to kiss a eclipse prayer
eternity yesterday morning was a
Dreaming

today my two golden snails sleep on your breasts the dream crazy sense of my labors

fall in love with the rain in December when no destination summers in the crucibles of your back

the wheat fields that adorn your neck are bitten by the same wind that

dora

I know very well that your lips have infinite sorrow prevailing desire pupa

the lights

mimbrea called blood in your mouth every day reveals dark silence

my eyes were your rocks at the bottom of a lake that pregnant light awoke in his song on your forehead

nests the roundness of the sediment wanted melts wonderful words

a sea of \u200b\u200bcoral evening curl your hair combed by a dune wave

and embark your ideas in those clouds that can no longer accept the view centuries-old statues and

Name me anytime when you might wake up anything with your mouth surrounded by mist

and from all finite extensions of this world is the magnificent realm of your being alive.

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Offering

listen

chords. Ascend all, all. The must learn who still has not bleeding or have kissed the stone warmer. Incéndiense

fields. Exhaustingly. Because nails are a lot of wind and my soul is ready with a hundred purple irises.

and also the sea withdrew and returned with a guilty secret.

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Alma

There is a snake grows roses to you,
and a milky river of stars that overflows
becoming the song that takes my years of fire and flooding
funds from my word.

There is a sea of \u200b\u200bsummer lost your hips
and a night sky at the secrets of your eyes, your mouth
and joys that I know about wine

of Greece and Rome, you're with me, and without measure .

There goldfinches that huddle for your hair, sunflowers

is cradled between your breasts

and my hands go a round day.

There

afternoon that rain always through your back, raise butterflies

hood

field and the moon to sleep in your rose water.

Male Genital Piercing Blog

Descent is discovered

up with me tonight No one but many fires coming alive in the last girl. Resonate with the trumpets, hear the organs come, ascend the stairs as smoke in riots, and most honorable thing is to respect the same image, perhaps witness the fight, delaying peace offer thirst, and be thrown with a treasure in the sustained tone of the water, but never look back, at least not to the morning hanging from the trees die.

is the kiss that deserves to be lived and not so much the lips. Is this the secret ceremony of my life, I invoke. And not a dull sentence, naked, miserable. His invasion force, however, to carry on their shoulders, the burning cross in one afternoon and, as land is not found, to escape the shadow of a great passing cloud, from the exile.

Dream. I dreamed since I was dead and pass the wagons, cleave its wheels, one by one, on the mudflats, with accurate pulse female blasphemy. I am the tree from which they flew all the birds and I am drunk, like a good perfume, bitterness. I just threw it has detached from the growing fire siege. I am the root celebrates its presence in the rain. I am the stone who sharpened machetes, the water in which swords are tempered. Today, I would like to escape his form, scratching other boundaries devastate extensions where there is no doubt. I spell in the game wandering trips. Summer I watch how the grapes are rotting. I am the amethyst, ruby, emerald, sapphire loses force set in the crown of kings. I am the fruit of which is fed not to fail, hate, needs salt depleted. Dreamed. I dreamed of the summits are not suspected by the blind eyes of the lakes during winter.

To you I surrender, drink my blood. The female I am offered in sacrifice to the dark floor.

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ensure Hourglass (Owned Exercise, Volume IV, an excerpt from Chapter 53)

Now. It's time to say adiós.Que new voices sing. Thanks.


"Millions of hands just to get in an hour. Have traveled to many different hourglasses of all sizes. What we fear of X decreases, which brings us back to ourselves. At the conclusion of the first, my nails have shone for a moment of consummation, and then I have fallen all ground, melting in ants of mercury. Now I have scented labyrinth where children used to have nails. Some also just spill their contents, just finished, poured, and hair by hair, strand by strand, I lose my hair are now aimed revolution sperm to fertilize the womb of existence. What was once a curly mane, envied by the wind, is now a crater skull very much like those of the distant moon. When will this end, I wonder what time. But it may, my question one of those last hours. My skin is wrinkled with age spots 3 rd, and one of those hourglasses sustained oxygen more gravity, no doubt considerable, lies already said goodbye to my skin turn into a snake infinite and that has made the ancient world outside of my sensory intuition beating a ball spell. I am a true reflection of the skeletons in anatomy classes and school visits first floor now closed. I can not deny my nature to ever changing state. But it must be said, before my tongue becomes a sea, before my throat is the underground corridor of those dungeons, it must be said, long before the privacy of eclipses, it should be, before, much earlier, before any numbering stands guard, is imposed, there is always a zero, a zero left, a zero does not count with his fingers crippled, one invisible crown, a bow in flames yesterday lions of water flowing through the twilight, a vagina that we espouse with his cosmic alliance with the great desire which no death cried tears of uterine involves manifest our own song, our continuous place in the world, vivid return, weaving and unraveling the same item in the cell of time, celestial spheres, spheres and more areas that we travel, demarcating the boundaries our capital miraculous walk we said, with his hands well to tell the time feared darkness, we were Darkener as Persia, we hid our lips under rocks melted, a zero order exemplified if need be, by the amazing context in which is limited. And my eternal night
goes back, ruffles his back, stretching like an invasion, just lit a yawn, back to my never-ending soul leaving the earth leading to my quicksand, lifted, lifted by its claws blinding initials perplexed him, strange to me, prophetic, that sensibly tell me who I am, who I am. But I'm not looking for my name, none of that, and do not jump from being to being with innumerable bells sewed for my soul over her hymen light the nine muses of Thrace, none of that, no be jumping to be. I tell you who I am. "

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Where is sewn OscurasUna empty suitcase in a circle of roses is the closest thing to your voice yesterday. Today however it impossible to breathe, hundreds and hundreds of light lips, an endless staircase, the same day endlessly. And always live on Friday, and is eternal spring in his hand I write.

eyelashes I grew watching him sleep. You knew his heart was beating a small sea, although they knew to wreck her kisses and childhood. As the people his kisses were full of gossip, and as in the capitals redhead voice changed with each season. You fell in love with the quiet rigor Light entering an empty room of an abandoned house. They put the names of cities to every part of your body oh yeah! and also named orphan tears you to you and your world map and your smile and your prayers and your oh! Ay! you fell when released to the woman by the guillotine in Sebastopol, to hear him shout "Fire!" in the besieged streets of Paris, or perhaps in the S. XVII when you reign in the capital of Desires and outpatient tell you dazzled the home he never knew, or perhaps in Berlin pursued by the SS, or when you peed over eleven years in a religion class, or to escape Ku Klux Virginia Klan contigo; seguramente fuera en un barco de esclavos que partía de Senegal, o cuando le enseñaste a escribir en la Universidad Popular en horario nocturno para inmigrantes.


Siempre te gustaron sus pies con erratas, sus labios incunables, sus olvidos paginados, las dedicatorias que te hacía con las miradas, y los versos que te escribía en la piel, noche tras noche, cada día.

¿Qué piedra no tropezó con esto? ¿Qué río no se ahoga en estas palabras? ¿Qué sol o luna llena no iluminó lo escrito? ¿Qué viento no propagó el rezo? ¿Qué sombra no se abrasó por dentro? ¿Qué camino no dejó de echar a andar su camino? What sea did not reach the end point and take it all for himself?

Everything is full of what does not. And my about me. Love

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Mena and lover of sunsets
invoke you. When pests eat my feet hurt from wandering barefoot, when his saliva covered with vermin stinging my body, when the lips taste the strong smell of martyrdom, when the wind touches my eyes water swamped when the ear is accustomed to strange voices like a beast in its cage, when I crawl in the dust blind pursuit of a single trace of dawn, when the hands want to chime in that castle the enormous bells, I invoke you. Nomad

night you invoke. In the intact nana of frost on the nails start to scratch that last wishes, in the course of blood that reveals his heartbeat, in the procession of the wind that fans the flames, the wailing which devoured the sun with bone trumpet territories in the thick saliva that makes the voice a more severe beating in the cold that can only do remember walls in ruins, I invoke you.

A scorpion runs the stones and sand from my thoughts to end my skin is covered with scales and get nothing but swamps, marshes.

From this darkness where I live all of you as filling tall grass, not seen you, I can not see and however, deep, horizon, limit, mirror, water, I feel its light.

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I gave birth in an alley as the months starving plunged into darkness, head full of rain, and choke the reverence of his music at the foot of the cities infested. I nursed from the breasts of madness and bit down hard, and tasted the bitter pleasure of saps. This made my bones hard. Revealed enjoyed pleasures with women each with a different skin and dense wine poured from my latest passion in her moans, and widespread in the underground questions, similar to pain in men, communing with the confession night of each stroke. So my body burned as a desire always hectic. I walked barefoot until exhaustion, the embers of the game on the back of the nets of fear and ambush, and where I stand, I swear, lynchings of embarrassment, and I recruited in my silence with a plan soaked and my bled silence, therefore, with such vehemence, that cracked the walls of their closures. So returning to my soul die, bird after bird, all the sunrises.
Hear, hear him all my thoughts out of me there. I alone reign in the middle of a circle of black flames. There my voice is inexhaustible until the proclamation and grows. Extended its veins of necessity and it is too late to deny it. Any glimpse into my soul again. And why pretend the sea is close to each beat and how not to admire the distant horizon anxiously.
soon forget my mother tongue and would later regret of many, when you watch the monologue of nature, I went into the bush.
Blind as a light that shines and causes those days, did not cease to listen to the lullaby of relief today, I owned the beam before so violently, it never invoked my prayer with so many blackouts. Invaded my name with a black anthem and lift the assault. And I made my word with a wheelbase of eyes.

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Island New Capital

A White, Carlos Launaz, and Miguel Cuadrado.


TODAY HAS ARRIVED IN A LETTER
from Island No. 67 Capital, Surf Avenue, Marsh,
know the sun and algae, by day and the wind, your back tanned by history, and I have received
in the room of clocks at the end of my eyes, how many nights I
scented hands with your words,
but how many years I have painted her mouth with the lipstick of your words,
and I have wrapped the furs
wild in my body soft as rivers, mild winter, soft ...
to see you again undressed in front of me
under transparent silks where your voice lives seized by the honey, I could caress
adverbs your hair, lipstick
had a neologism glorious
saw that in your legs had dots, and your breasts smell
to Oohhh! of children when the stories
to Oohhh! in fireworks, with a great magic trick,
and your arms were two exclamation marks that safeguard your existence, your existence
that glitters
your life mother of the vowels that spell a new alphabet.

You both trailed by now intend to stop writing forever.

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And lost again

flee the day in Pisa sky light clusters on other lands

and my fire will give you a kingdom
different from your name and my water

to sing naked black stones of your soul and our silence
sun burn ancient sea without a beach
the heart of death
and your name will fit all the stars in your soul
and harp melodies and purple irises
besases
after my sea foam livid
not earned and the costs were not enough besases
after my sea my sea
always wanted to be desert