I do not love me, against or over, do not want you under what is sweeter to forget or you want over the counter pursued.
not want you in my life that descends from a kiss or love you at the bus stop from dawn to adulterated pastor eyes, smile fixed on what he calls heaven.
I do not want it said, do not want me, or on or against this wall echoes drunk notes, do not want you under the sheets where you lose the sonnets.
I do not want in life or the kiss that wakes you want to stop evening of poetry, I will not name at the moment of paradise or you want me to list the dreams.
I do not want to exile me from the emptiness overwhelming hopelessness of a heart flooded with joy. I do not want
below, behind or above the hug that embellish in small drops of oblivion.
I do not want me to go against me you, do not want my hand to say goodbye daily to subordinate thought and devote to you the late morning.
I do not want to kiss the life of desire or love you in the rhythm of the moment bastard who prefer their freedom to tie one night by name.
not want you at my feet or my side or behind, do not want me or my life, he said.
A cliff walk I do not want it said, and disprove the cliff jump.
- - -
I forget that I write when I touch you and when you play with me so I thought I lost, forgotten to write when I touch you and me why we lost touch just involve thought.
forgot I wrote when I was playing and when you touched in me that used to be subordinated to that madly in love dusk beasts eyes.
had forgotten that I write, I had forgotten what it was not wanting in life's speech wrong honey, I forgot what it is to be touched to the soul and not from her, had forgotten to get lost without fear of getting involved, had forgotten.
forgot to say that I write, I forgot to tell you that I write and describe just when I look at the roof of the front that makes wall in the mind of a lost paradise.
had forgotten what the world is vanishing and the time when you touch the heart and dismemberment of you the essence.
forgot to mention that I write, but I write with the bone and when distilled into the letters is not in favor but against what sometimes seems to be alive.
had forgotten that I write sometimes in cliff overlooking the back of the sunset, waiting for the deafening morning sleep, leaving me by blazing past the buzz that comes late. There
forgotten what it is to let someone touch you below the middle there is no adjective tissue diffuse between desire and sex. And forget forget
between caressing deep.
had forgotten the cliff jumping in the stars, in that it remains full of unfinished poetry.
had forgotten to write with your feet floating in the wind that brings the passenger knows what is not wanted, the rain that is encapsulated in the breeze of promise. I had forgotten
not want more than the deep caress of a different heart, little expecting to see tomorrow.
not want you in my life, mean life lines, agenda and networking code numbers that are supposed to be social so of my life and it does not want pieces but whole beings.
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