Haemoglobin

Do you listen to my heart? Cause I can´t hear it right now. 
Do I hurt you? Sometimes something hurts inside me and I don´t know why.
And there are still mysteries hidden deeper than my skin or the blood that runs within your veins and I´d be.

Pétalo

El cielo gris a carboncillo y el corazón que late lento. Pequeñas gotitas de hielo caen entre mis dedos largos y enrojecidos. Y los pies se congelan, a pesar de que llevo botas, todas las lindas zapatillas de tacón han estado guardadas desde hace varias semanas. Solo uso botas. Y de las calientitas. Y guantes, pero aun así estan muy frios y rojos los dedos, rojas las mejillas, partida la boca. Y siento el viento helado recorrer mis huesitos, porque mi piel no es lo suficientemente hermética para protegerlos. Porque el invierno siempre me hace pequeña. Soy un pétalo, y nada más.

Voz

Cada dia escucho muchas voces. Algunas discretas, otras escandalosas y encendidas; casi todas ellas tan claras en lo que dicen. Pero tu voz no es así. Es de timbre suave y sensual, ¿o será que yo así la percibo?  tan misteriosas sus palabras como sus silencios, mensajes crípticos que quizá solo mi piel logre descifrar al estar entre tus manos, oscura coincidencia. 

Estrella

Hastío de sabores ordinarios
que jamás en mi boca probarías
y tu mirada que guardas egoísta
mezcla de deseo y frío, 
cautivadora y sombría... Y yo
con la duda de, si algún día 
bajo una blanca estrella 
nos volveremos a encontrar.

Tú que quisiste crearme
a tu antojo y tu medida 
para ser sólo tu mito
que por tu voluntad 
yo fui tu todo
en un momento de éxtasis, 
sin diluirnos en el tiempo.

Tu, que por cada paso que das, 
aunque de mi te aleje,
cada vez te acercas más
sin saber el hambre que 
tienes, hasta que has probado
saciarte...

Eres el mismísimo fuego 
que ignoras. 
De mis brazos el destino
y yo callada cómplice
quizá para tu camino. 

Sometimes I get very quiet, trying to hear the sound of my soul. There are nights when I roll in my bed and then stretch out happily and then remember I can do so because I am alone. And the world seems a nicer place except for those minimal moments in which I recall the comfort of your arms and -okay, I'll say it- I miss you. And my imagination tries to grasp you; I guess what you´d be doing, what you would say, when we will meet. There are so many afternoons together we've skipped since you left! Even as busy as I have been working -and you too, most likely- I am sure a lot of things have happened since we last spoke, there are so many news to share...

I confess that sometimes I would like to pretend that you are with me. Just for fun. Because I like you. But the world doesn´t seem like a big cold place anymore and I feel strong and well. Well, I guess I am alone, but that just feels right. I am not lonely.
Still, I crave for the night´s gentle light, to rest my eyes. And would you miss my warmth?

Mi nombre

Una caricia que sea prueba no sólo 
de amor, sino de nuestra existencia misma

Que vaya más allá del tiempo y del espacio; más allá de ti y de mí y de nuestros límites humanos.

Que viva y regale vida en un amanecer rojo como fuego en las manos, que arde sin dolor.

Y nos vuelva omnipotentes en el instante en que nuestras lenguas se toquen.

Una caricia que sea más que las palabras -pues son solo palabras todo lo que tengo para enamorarte- jugándonos el todo por el todo, de un amor que sabe navegar de ida y de regreso:

Desde siempre, en tus estrellas estuvo escrito mi nombre. 

Betrayal

"I want roses" written on the mirror and a smile across his face lightenend the atmosphere surrounding. The sole remembrance of her soft curves did. Wrapped in a lacey black garter belt, silk stockings and stilettos, as last night she was. If there was ever a woman´s body which bespoke tenderness, it was hers. Her smell, her warmth, all her sweetness was his, undilluted, undisputable. Always calling on gentle words to him, her only love. Just last night he twisted slightly and then pulled the pearl string she was wearing around her neck. She gave him a smug stare and the undisturbed grin of one perpetually in love. She would have never been with anyone else. No, she could never... or could she? Thuded the question even deeper as his hand ran up and down the delicate line between her cleavage and her ear, time and time again.

Though he never spoke his doubt, she knew: "You know I didn´t. I love you" she said in a hushed voice, her eyes piercing with request end expectation. But it was already too late. No word she could say would change his mind; he would never again laugh excitedly after making love to her and feeling the endorphin burst that always came with their culmination. He would never dream of her again. She stood in awe watching from a corner of the room, which was now ominously quiet and seemed to grow darker as her light slowly faded. She did nothing, but to exist. And now, this existence was forbidden by him.  Or maybe it was the therapist. Or maybe the pill, who knows. They called her "a delusion". But it is all over now... How could she have forseen such betrayal?