DAWN
First convergence path
A seed of death engenders your visions ... Pilgrim permanence refrain my shadow. Fear-graft in the blood-tree begins its celebration of sleepwalkers and is time to move moons misleading.
-Am door beginning and end. I have a face to the visible, one for the invisible ...
say to surprise me. Do not fear the shame suicide without a body ... Looking for a guide to retrace the path of the night: a reader of the fire, the woman who takes advantage of the setting sun, a continued development ... Then I hid in the eyelids if I notice that the word fire risk.
"Life will come: I was taken by the light.
The rapture is day in a realm of lost ... The first beam is frozen in the closest mirror and start working from the abyss.
Now comes the scream inside. Prolong the origin of meanders down where the red spider known breast end. Believe in the adventure of language and sickle founder of laughter. Trying to tame the unexpected, to arrange the puzzle, and I focus on the noon of your eyes waiting for the sign of the cruel gifts. Today I drive the carousel of silences: the zooming power of rejection. This fear disturbs: originality ... and may exist in the flutter of my mouth the answer is water bird, because something lurks in the lake and watch impassively the night will soon my drill.
double fatal myth is explained with lovers, they sinister or invent tactics exploit a window of rain, the circles of divine laughter, the ceremony of thirst that feeds the illusion.
"It recognizes that all perfection is impossible without death: yet I own nothing. And you can not access. The gods are destroyed by laughter but you cause the crying demon. The fall constellations ...
affirm newborn prior to the past. Flee memory: Domain scream, and my oblivion is released. When buying a drink invisible the instant name-drop where I go the time- although the tongue swinging mark our time.
Do not confuse the signal austere chose: my mistake was to open the dikes of the language, go beyond the monosyllable. And know the struggle with uncertainty, the mission of starting words like scabs. Founded many masks our fear-great nude-but I am helpless behind them is skin twitches. In the center of the labyrinth awaits the perpetrator shouting that nobody listens to your breathing ally ... Where reborn sacred?
feel the call of the water, my adventure is in your stillness. Let's bustling streets, returning. The snake Asphalt vibrating beneath our feet. I'm close to me in the land of oblivion I esteem, I've discovered. You are a tunnel leading to the end in which I am waiting for me. You've set out to do the rite of Seed, a ceaseless sunrise: the time it finally lands on his back.
The radiance plays with my eyes. Accept the tragedy to arouse the dawn of the faces ... Here where the ghosts are real just not looking for general themes or siege, there is hope in the mystery. Your heart bury my images. From the outset we outlined the perspective chosen for the other person draw the face I'll meet you, you'll hear me: the silhouette of the approaches past torment retiñendo traits. Each candle-eyed and complacency prison, trying to display to the final viewer-the mirror.
"It's not enough to oblivion. I grew used to fear, not to die, "a fragile and new births ... I'm away, but no matter, the existence is fraught with excessive distress by changing sky. You say
improvising indifference, tilt and am away, inside me, anchored in coastal intimate. And hope the bye with no recurrence, the dissolution of the knot of feelings and images. I want to escape. Seeking the light prison invented fears, the river gag reflexes.
"I just wanted to be the favorite jester-death mother, who knows the place of the night. The point where the past meets the future: the moment, and look at me, dying ...
You protect yourself, you unfold. Understand both commonplace and avoiding not to love. Beginnings are fighting ambiguities and statements, scratches and rejections: the costumes of dawn. Of memories and desires, and negative omissions explicit. A masked in the language world, the precepts and the clouds immobile trench for translators of silence.
-Women not loud enough to be so sad, is still looking for shelter in pain? When I saw you I said I violated their appearance, it is essential that I do not know ... although in this century someone still seeking to rebuild beauty. Injuries
my vanity. The east remains in me. It imposes a high-sided trade, our time is not a change of values \u200b\u200bbut of fear. Broken doors feel the blood, the silent lightning, fear, happy ... Because life lives in the habit broken. And while my hair steals intermittent wind I hear your, your greed, I know all the names from oblivion.
-that salvation is not as long a time indecipherable, is my cry. At times God has been expelled Adam from Paradise to the rite is the only opposite of death.
say falling in my eyes. Tracing the trail of the heartbeat, the steps of the unspeakable. We must create an injunction that allows a high scandal, remember that it is ghost who is suffering the rebellion of his shadow and protect the endangered: the blind border, signs of the wreckage, the stripping of the name, renouncing that prepares wisdom ...
From the beginning there are acts that are allocated for ever, my body will hand in a train window, I am exercising the heading. The undulating. The flowing. The water in my face is thirsty of who collects countless gestures and my statue sculpted from their blood.
Avanzo. Looking at the asphalt road of the city in ruins. Appear again the frantic streets, now all the watches are developed. One night I taught my heart to beat, now the world takes me away, take us away the banks, and if necessary to sacrifice this for past ...
I go to bed in time. How many times again before you find missing? How many memories will be grain and murder of my shadow?
Gonzalo Márquez Christ
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