do not know why I bring this book, I closed my eyes.
hereby release my gaze from the past and return the beach to the blizzard. The book loses its leaves ashen sophistry. Without it and I settle in a corner away from tenderness.
Yet you expect me.
A patio anticipates the meeting. There is a white hammock in which a child sleeps stories inaccessible forests. I awake, I ask for you, says you've gone with me, I should know better.
that answer and I knot in silence. For a moment, wisdom implies bewilderment me cruel but I do not stop, I know the pitfalls of inertia.
Inside the gloom is thick. I walk in the dark and left behind several doors. I come to a room dominated by amplitude. The ceiling displays of eastern woods and exquisite tapestries of blue tones. I admire them stunned, silk is so light that throbs and transmuted into promise.
wins I suddenly lose excruciating pain and equilibrium steps bounds.
You're beside me, hold me, bind my waist gently, smiling fun. I realize I do not, I doubt what I feel.
Meanwhile, it is already noon.
Large windows seduce me and I forget, I leave, I prefer the light. Find you no longer want. Mined by imperceptible cracks in the reign baluster two crystal glasses. I hesitate, waiting for a signal ... that will never arrive. Because it is installed between you and me much earlier.
I go from there driven by ancient anguish and arrived at a beach topography. That irritates me and tremble, then warn the fraud of a stranger's dream I do not participate.
sorry.
Libero sense of confusion and start walking.
The boy who was sleeping forest tales comes back. Also a girl who is confused me at times and, at times, lost innocence and docility. I take his hand. Try to look at mine but I see yours.
And between you and me nudity and crazy imprisons us by dint of exclusions.
A little further away, a man sells colored painted canvas, the rope has stretched on barely visible and do not know why, I think they are but illusions plasma wrong condemned to the solitude of the sand. The man ignored me. Follow my progress. The child comes, but now I regret its presence.
is amazing how events are imposed. Before me lies a set of cathedrals. It is rare ... They are nestled in the rugged beach, messy, which detracts from the river even absent of harmony and sound.
need to get out.
But I'm out with a fine cathedral and infinite light marble steps, as this silk lace, finished off a spectacular atrium. I feel a great frustration: they are many, but many steps leading to the nave, I decline the invitation absurd.
I decide to continue.
A pink beam down to my feet. I raise my eyes are piled up roses. And while I hold in my resignation, I can not take his eyes off the light that comes in the magnificent stone rhodochrosite. Its fine architecture is disturbing. Notice that the child is under the same spell.
I return to my steps and entered.
And for the second time in this remarkable day I am seduced, abducted by the ceilings. These form a series of vaults, dissipating in waves of gold and ivory, are resolved in a purity overwhelming.
I walk with awe and reverence.
crosses in front of the altar and make out a glass. I want to know inside, I turn to avoid it. But my feet hanging over my will. Objection to its small size, seems to contain a dead girl dressed in white. Or maybe it's a grimace. Or I wanted.
Sorry.
consumes me wear outrageous.
absorbed Preceded by the child, wrapped in omens go out of finitude. Hasten the walk, I walk away to the Serenity. I try to forget that I forget, but something stops him.
Giro on my shoulder and I see: a horse harness blue and red velvet, a toy horse hangs from his column bronze, lonely, useless waiting to be mounted. Guess who left his carousel. But the truth is that there is no point, hangs in the air, as if gravity is indifferent.
is in bad taste, I think, that toy horse in the middle of nowhere ... I recall at that moment my father, I can almost touch it. I gave it a distant, blurred and forgotten Sunday in August. Although I can not take souvenirs wherever I go.
is late, someone will leave and the rush now dominates my senses.
I love you.
only have time for a sanctuary. I go with the child and move into the aisle. The silence is overwhelming and just breathe. There is a large white bed in which lies the pain of the world since its inception. Mute and the child cries. It out from there and enter the main hall. An ethereal music envelops us in sweet indulgence frame under the iridescent light that, perfumed with roses, crosses the crystals.
Thanks.
The aroma produces a subtle transmutation into space. I begin to suspect this reality that the only thing tangible is the question.
I lean toward me, looked at me and decided to wake up. The child has gone to sleep. The seller of paintings and the horse will remain in eternal solitude.
The past is just wind. There will be no place for the meeting, I say, convinced me blinded evocative credulity.
Then smile, touch my hand. A slight breeze binds us.
You pick up the book with tenderness, wonder why I took so long to write. Confused mumbled that maybe I wanted to catch the wind.
The book is blue and has not ever read.
In a distant window the wind is blowing up two crystal glasses.
0 comments:
Post a Comment