The right amount of haze
The right amount of night
The right city, the right place
The proper company and just the conversation that goes along
The proper bottle of chardonnay
A travel
A train
A certain sound, a certain song,an exact order of notes
Crazy laughter
Overwhelming orgasm
All this things will make the wonder of your scent appear.
The danger is that it is never the same order, the same enchantment.Crazy magic lies in the fact that you can appear at ANY moment.
Each awakening, each sorrow, every sight and every darkness is a step towards the rite of your presence.
A neverending trance, a now very unfortunate bewitchment that I'll never unbound.
The loop is the spell is the loop.
Inebriated with the feeling I shout "BE HERE NOW!"
All this goes on in the lifetime of a sad whisper. In a second of intoxicated weakness I stumble and spit "it's nothing it's nothing it is NOTHING"
And the spell passes.
Isn't it crazy?
jueves, octubre 28, 2010
lunes, octubre 25, 2010
domingo, octubre 17, 2010
Tantra
...If there was only something between us
other than our clothes...
The heart's filthy lesson
falls upon deaf ears
David Bowie
What's the name of this?
I'm spending my dreams searching for a metaphor for pleasure and guilt.
You feel disgusted because you like the way I see you,the way I capture you,and you come back everytime because in the loneliness of your pleasure the way we die together keeps coming just before you end.
(Fleshy craving)
Mesmerized by an intention of decay, of crude matter, of salty flesh,of the way your skin feels against my breath.
your guilty nakedeness binds us,my eyes touch you and you can FINALLY BE YOURSELF.
A wave of desire unleashes as the door closes and the world remains outside.
Nothing will be learned,nothing will be better, it's just that exchange of NOTHING that makes us meet again.
What's the name of this?
other than our clothes...
The heart's filthy lesson
falls upon deaf ears
David Bowie
What's the name of this?
I'm spending my dreams searching for a metaphor for pleasure and guilt.
You feel disgusted because you like the way I see you,the way I capture you,and you come back everytime because in the loneliness of your pleasure the way we die together keeps coming just before you end.
(Fleshy craving)
Mesmerized by an intention of decay, of crude matter, of salty flesh,of the way your skin feels against my breath.
your guilty nakedeness binds us,my eyes touch you and you can FINALLY BE YOURSELF.
A wave of desire unleashes as the door closes and the world remains outside.
Nothing will be learned,nothing will be better, it's just that exchange of NOTHING that makes us meet again.
What's the name of this?
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