La tortura no es verte en todas pa… La tortura es que me singularices… Otra flecha... y otra mas... mi co… malaventurado San Sebastián.
Like grey skies announcing a comin… I’m fearing the news of your parti… Unsuccessfully trying to shelter m… From the devastating phenomenon... I won’t see you go. I havent got…
I wonder if Einstein, in his hapl… Did compute the time paradox that… When two lovers are away from each… Time do go slower, like an eternit… When you are away from me.
The game started well with open he… And then you uttered your plans fo… And I was secretly hoping that th… But somehow, my heart is crunched… And the inkwell is running abundan…
Every corner of this city beautifu… reminds me of something I want to relive. Every blue sky has a golden line, every soft green shrub, a new begi…
Recette pour un long amour : prenez toutes les papillons que vous avez a l’estomac a chaque fois que vous la voyez, et que son visage et tout son corps s’illumine au contact de vos rega...
Autumn winds in the morning Flowing through my flesh and bones… Autumn winds after a scorching sum… Cleaning away the ashes of what it… Autumn winds renewing the earth
Je me lève de mon linceul humide Je cherche l’air, l’esprit, la vie… Je te cherche toi, Peut être de l’autre côté de la po… Tu m’attends.
The day started with the most human of feelings: that of our own mortality, through the rituals we arrange for our departed. From that helpless feeling came a hopeful one... and then we...
Elation, Euphory, Your eyes on me, My smile on you. Suddenly, thunderous words.
A thorn buried in the flesh becomes familiar after a while. The pain becomes usual, with an undefined warmth, as you keep dancing,
I’m no one’s monster. I walk up and down my own darkness… Enjoying the bleeding freedom Fought and won over the dim light… I’m no one’s pain.
It is not because we start to with… The roses of the first instants st… The first heartache still pinch us… The first kiss, The first love.
In the end, what kills you Is not the great machinations of t… But the small battles of your own… And the soul shrivels And the heart follows the painless…
Left on the shore Crying Like a child lost in the crowd Longing for ghosts and illusions Buried in the fog