NOT YOUR PUPPET

Feeling that sense of getting lost in the middle of the music, the only one
Without thinking that an audience judges
Get out of the sheet that sweats to go back into the dispersed intercourse
Over time that changes in beating a burning iron
With blood that spits and kills whoever helps, then scrutinizes
I move each strand of my puppet with subtle movements
But mine is a puppet who knows who is driving him, it is he who cuts his strings
It is the statue that is erected by enthusiasm and left to that guano he wears
A standing run, a cross on the ground
A vice, a hug, a patch, a tear, a violent silence
A voice, a mouth, a threshold, a light
A moon, a desire, a shape, a need, a woman, a pride, a retort, a sunset
A beach, a fate that I write, a fate that I live
A road that starts from here. 

SOFT WHISPER

Physical attraction is the key that moves the world, anyone can make us feel sensations and emotions, but the real attraction is that of souls. We will be able to supplant one caress for another, even a few kisses, but when we go further we will not be able to deceive our hearts, we will not be able to pretend to find what we have always sought, we will not be able to deceive ourselves.

When the hearts of those who are bound separate, the emptiness they leave is felt and is very deep, it drowns, it burns the soul. Two souls who have traveled together are much more connected than it might seem, their bond transcends everything.

However, the missions end, often even if two hearts have loved each other deeply and given to each other they are forced to take different paths, take other paths to learn what it is necessary for them to learn.

Two hearts do not separate as long as one lives in the other and is bizarre, but they will meet again perhaps in another life, on other occasions and that meeting will happen and it will be as if nothing had happened, it will all start again from the exact moment in which they broke up with.
Thus, on this night of rain and lightning, I rediscovered myself as my own sun. And I shine and I shine and I shine and I sing and dance and I go back to being myself before you, thinking about nights by the sea with ball music while I dance and look at the stars dreaming of love and love has arrived , it doesn't matter if he's already gone, I tried it, I felt it, it went through me and I thought I had lost pieces of my heart, again, but maybe not, maybe I found them again, maybe I reassembled the 'whole and it hurt me as much as when a missing limb reappears and the body has to get used to and heal the wounds, so, me. so I don't think about any revenge on you, my revenge is instead to find myself, get back on my feet, go back to dreaming, rediscover the desire to believe in love and in me, rediscover the desire to fall in love and to dance and sing to out loud in the rain.
I shine I feel the light pulsing inside me.

JUST LAST YEAR

A year ago I met a boy, it was summer and instead of getting lost in the sea I was lost in the ocean of his eyes. I think I left the best part of me in those eyes. I met a boy, in a strange way, almost like life was having fun putting happiness in front of me and in an aimless race never to give it to me. He was different, I immediately realized, perhaps because I was basically the same as him. It was different, he still saw stars where others only described bright spots. He still believed in great love, that of old-time novels, while the others were content with false ties. He still hoped, believed and loved beyond explanation. And among the things he loved, I too ended up. I loved his kisses, how he held me close and how he was able to protect me with a single hug from the shit of the world. I loved the way he looked at me or the way our hands fit together perfectly. But more than anything else I loved how he thought, his speeches, his words, his every idea gave me life again and I didn’t want life anymore. They danced in the street, we were enchanted in front of a sunset, we sang in every square, we made love with our eyes, with our souls and only finally with our bodies. There was no corner of that small seaside town that we did not make ours. That city had its scent, and at the mere idea of ​​returning there I know that I would cry until it flooded it like Venice after a storm. I envy those who were lucky enough to always have it with them, but I believe that no one will ever understand it. He was different and even I sometimes didn’t know how to translate his gestures. His heart belonged to distant times. His soul was tied to some distant star. That boy shone with his own light. Our love was never understood, but when did it ever happen that madness was understood? Our love was madness. It was passion that burned with the same intensity with which a thousand Suns burn. It was desire that flared up and wore out every particle of our body, that desire that was every man’s fault. It was friendship that Plato described as the most honorable of human bonds, able to make us understand our deepest souls and dreams with a single glance. Our love was never known to mankind. And God I loved that boy so much I forgot even what hate was. And I never wanted to be taken away. A year ago I met a boy, but that boy never had the opportunity to know happiness.

THE VOICE OF DESIRE

Is this what it feels like when you’re in love? The heart that beats fast as soon as you see him, the smile that appears on your face as soon as someone names him, the lack you feel when you don’t see him, the scent you smell even if he is not close to you, the thousand songs that you dedicate to him the phrases you used to read and say “I will never be like this” yet look at yourself now. You had built yourself a thick armor that no one would be able to break down, yet it was enough for him to look at you to make you weak again. Because yes, love makes you weak. When you love someone, you depend on that someone. A message, a gesture, a word is enough to completely turn your day around. Yes, it completely upsets your love.
And she was like that. He spoke to you with an unparalleled enthusiasm, he looked you in the eye and smiled, and the next moment he stared at a point lost in the void, she was like that, she was able to go from one emotion to another in a second. A memory was enough. And she was beautiful when she remembered, she enchanted herself with her mouth open, wrinkles formed on the sides of her eyes because she squinted and squeezed in the effort and then, even more tender, she put a hand in front of her mouth, realizing what she was doing. he was thinking. And most of the time not to be beautiful things, despite her innocent appearance, because she blushed and looked around that nobody saw her, then clapped a hand on her forehead as if to say: what have I done ?! She was like that. It would get lost behind her and it would come to her mind and one would choose the air, break her heart, a sense of vertigo as if she were about to sink into a black hole. To keep herself anchored to reality she bit her lips until they bleed and stuck her nails in her palms. And then maybe on one side she regretted it, of certain details, but on the other side she smiled mischievously. She was like that. He was half angel and half temptation.
Kisses against the wall.
Kisses given with force.
Kisses that take your breath away.
Kisses given by mistake.
The best mistake I could have made.
Kisses off guard.
Kisses given on the threshold of a door.
Kisses with the tongue.
Kisses without a tongue.
Kisses with bites.
Quick kisses.
Long, slow kisses.
Kisses on the neck.
Kisses on the forehead.
Kisses goodbye.
You kiss that when you are angry you push him away by forcefully saying to leave you alone but then he pulls you hard and kisses you and you try to resist but you surrender to the touch of his lips.
Kisses are the one thing we can’t avoid.
The only temptation we cannot resist.
And there is nothing more sublime than letting oneself go to temptation. The perversion of the forbidden, the adrenaline of error, the pleasure of discovering hell, the absurdity of denying heaven. We are fire and flame, what burns us, what burns us. We are heroin injected slowly, we are an absurd perception of ‘after death’. We are the time that stops, and the souls that touch. Ripping flesh, the most captivating pain I know. We will invent new sensations, explosions, nuclear disasters. We will be the thrill that pervades the body, the sensuality that intoxicates the senses. We will be cocaine, addiction, we will be a mistake, we will be the devil. There is nothing more beautiful than the perversion and the desire for it between two bodies that have understood. Understood, perhaps, deadly.
The temptation
The pleasure of an instant
A simple action Small enscattante.
And slowly it destroys Your poor soul
And slowly it melts you
That magnanimous pleasure.
And fall and yield In the waves of time
And fall back and recede It’s just a moment.
Everything seems to take away While the heart despairs
Praying for my soul My heart hopes.
Your God you pray For salvation
After you don’t fool yourself
But it is your only certainty.
Calling for forgiveness, Between sobs and salty cheeks,
It is your only gift,
You pray, with your veiled pupils.

 

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