Quante volte abbiamo perso, ad ogni errore una medaglia, uno stemma sulla pelle, un vado avanti nonostante le fregature latenti. Forse ho smarrito la cartina del tesoro, forse bancali di nebbia ostacolano tutto quello che c'e' aldilà delle mie illusioni, o forse ci sarà quella bufera che spazzerà via ogni indecisione e poi la nitidezza, quel bisogno di dormire e sentire il tuo respiro caldo, la tua voce calma, i tuoi baci morbidi attaccati alle mie spalle. Quanti pensieri sul tuo inchiostro invisibile
© 2015 Deliria Rambles
How many times we have fallen, how many times have hurt us, how many times we colpito.Quante times we cursed the day, packed up, slammed the door, and I'm not going back, and you do not come, and I call you, you do not call me. Pride on the rails, trains, stations, hours with a lump in my throat and snow inside the veins. How many times have we killed a fucking chance to feel good, to kiss the anger, to make love and lose control of the time, getting up at night to look into my eyes and still see the constellation most bella. not, we are damned stubborn, everyone on the "throne" fiercest, to limarci language of poison, to intoxicate the sun inside the morning, many
Sometimes your silence, my silence access, offended, angry, mocked, struck, incompreso.Many times still must bind those days torn and maybe rewrite them with adjectives sweet, breathing swollen and surrendered, with the love that swerves, with all that fear that trembles before undressing and giving.
How many times have we lost, every mistake a medal, a badge on the skin, a go forward despite the disappointments latenti. If I lost the map of treasure, perhaps pallets fog hinder all there 'beyond my illusions, or perhaps there will be the storm that will sweep 'away any indecision, and then the sharpness, the need for sleep and feel your hot breath, calm your voice, your kisses soft stuck behind me. How many thoughts on your invisible ink
© 2015 Deliria Rambles
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