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Mostrando las entradas de marzo, 2012

Somos el mundo

Estamos tratando de callar lo que queda del silencio. Nos hacemos fuertes, creyendo en las sombras y las luces del pasado que nos acompañan. Estamos esperando, por el quinto sol y el calendario maya a que nos dicten la sentencia. Somos mundo y queremos seguir siendo mientras nos destruimos. Somos humanos y estamos solos. Tan solo nos queda el amor.

Toda mi sangre

Tengo que tenerte. Morderte y luego quedito masticarte, sin salpicar. Hay que mostrar buenos modales, hasta cuando se trata del cuerpo. Quiero llenarme de tí y no interrumpir tu sueño; sentir tu mano en el metro, el susurro de mi respiración nerviosa en las esquinas de algún bar antes de que cierre. Toda tu sangre la quiero; para hacerme un vestido y celebrar nuestra mutua entrega. Quiero sentir tus dientes, caminar entre los canales e inventar las pieles que nos pondremos mañana. Toda la sangre que me queda, te la voy a servir en copas de plata. Para que acompañes mi carne en una cena de ésas... en las que solamente tú y yo entendemos el sabor de los dos.

Blow by blow - women's day special edition

Yawning helps to open your ears, they say... also chewing a gum or just closing your nose with your fingers and blowing into your closed mouth. But how to unclog your ears when they are clogged with blood? She was still too stunned from the sudden hit to just be able to think. The heat in her cheek was intense and her jaw made a crunchy sound even when she tried to avoid it, just by murmuring senseless words. Gustavo watched her from the corner. You could say he was fascinated, ecstatic, feeling his own power. Mireya grabbed the stove to help herself stand up slowly. Why were her legs shaking so much? She still couldn’t find an answer in her head for the question at hand: what did she do this time to provoke the blow? But it was the moment she lifted her arm to move the stripe of hair from her face, when she noticed...her blouse had opened from the fall and her white and soft breast was looking out, naked on the plain cloth, shamelessly reflecting the light of the kitchen. Gustavo’s