Monday, December 27, 2010

Opisy Na Gg Hardstyle

6:49

Lover nm (from Old French, bitter, love) Man with a woman who has sex outside of marriage








4:07

I do not sleep.

I'm crazy to kill.

pacing the carpet of shit

one fucking neurotic hypochondriac

I lie in bed for thirty singles

Convinced that access to the hype-itude give him a surplus of identity.

The skunk can be. I'm trapped

. Worst of all



In boiling

I do not want.



I'm naked.

I dress quickly

Because he says he must go.

One Monday morning in spring warmth that can whip you in the face.

I go.

I go back to bed.

moisture in bed.

And in a burst of nostalgia.

I send a message.

Direct.

Straight.

Because there are desires

That can not fight.

So we decided to revisit

same evening.

same night.

As a desire of being without the other

Who is beyond us.


1:30 am, I'm home.

Afraid to pass this door.

After what happened.

After close between us.

We do not know whether we should embrace.

Your kitchen to smoke.

Gazing into the eyes

With discomfort for our respective desires

That contains. .

With you last night is nothing.

I do love you as before.

My eyes seek support.

Nothing.


2:33

It does not happen that night

The presence of the other suffices.

In a bed

Two

For reassurance of solitude.

I feel you near me.

I fight.

It's your voice that asks me

So I'm getting closer.

near you, I shine.

We grazes.

I die for you.

is undressing.

face of our nakedness.

I read in your eyes which end in me.

L'*****.

Again.

Your mouth adjoins mine.

Our languages, our juices

I drink you.

The softness of your skin

What I explore

With my sweaty fingers.

Your hair in my eyes

And your words that echo the past

"it never ends."

Talk to us,

A route such as CDI

Up resignation of another.

Until love is found elsewhere.



In you I forget.

I'll leave you alone in the morning.

Crossing this vast apartment.

To meet my daily student.

I want you back,

One night at Republic.

wake myself up in the noise of the city.

Feel the excitement all around us

We, alone, in the middle of this room banal

With only company

This passion palpable.



*, my late lover.

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