Wednesday, April 21, 2010

A Kid Pressing Boobs Of Women

Your face in the tea time (*)

I still think of you all the time, not to believe that is a lie that you left. Not to be waiting for you come this afternoon to have tea with me, chat with my dad on the news. That phone call to find out where I am, where I went. I know we were friends, who trusted in me. Always thinking of you, not only now they're not. I think that ultimately went unconditional. And want to see you again. And want to embrace today.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

2009 Costco Makeup Brushes

life to sing, play the box


Where
escapes life when he is hiding.
Where
search for the word no longer appears,

eyes flutter no longer looking at who's talking in his ear. Where

fortitude saves yesterday was lively. Where

nonexistent voice bounces diminutive names me, silent.

Tear of my father that rubs me the soul, cutting, sharp.

Where death walks of life and lets you step, to keep galloping.

So I'll always remember, as though charláramos of the soap in the afternoon, and laughed at some gossip, or something absurd. Because he was always laughing, I took your laughter. And the points of two needles that taught me, and the pullover the neck you did for me when I left, I cut pants. The sewing machine, you also like the round, I put music on and said "I love this Manu Chao." Rail travel to Mar del Plata, so you can go to the recital of the lice, the bags to play Tinenti, cloth ice water for fever. Your desire to take on the road, chicken rice, tea with milk, cookies Lincoln, apple cake richer, the avenue, the neckerchief sensitive to our throats, you name it has melody, phone features came to me. Eternally
thanks for the heroic act by two hands lay them down when we most need. I hold you forever, Grandma Val.

Sabrinita .