Act I

You ask me all those questions that make my stomach grab the inside of my body in a vain attempt to scape from panicking... 
I look at you trying to configure a new code of relating to establish boundaries I don't believe exist.
More I feel your skin, more I urge for us to become one, and this irrationality shakes all conventionalities around... 
I can no longer hold on to what I've learned so far. 
Everything is so new as if I never lived before. 
All that was, is irrelevant and even funny to look at... 
A mockery for a past and you as a present. 
I don't know how can I ever be so grateful as to deserve such happiness... 
So I let all fall down to prove my misery's right... 
Fuck that shit and I jump high to see you from above and slap your face every time you try to re create failures... 
Looking through lenses of desires I see you perfect. 
Talking to my hand today, I figured the puzzle we draw to maintain away any sign of nostalgia. I love you from every angle but my aim is poor. 
I practice focus to keep your presence and your charming smile at sight. 
I need to practice us to know all the lines that form what we are by heart. 
In memorizing our shapes being becomes organic and all the sounds make sense. 
We don't need to repeat words to put up the show. 
The spectacle is our silence, staring out the window, not having to know...
Let the curtain rise!

YOU

Love Street Art

When I first heard you,
I could feel the future... 
It was made of all those dreams I've been carrying on for lives.
When I am close to you,
I can see in your eyes that I live in that reflection.
I spend evenings creating cliches phrases to describe what I feel for you.
They come late and stumbling on other thoughts, they get lost, before I can speak... 
They become sweat when I see you. 
Sweating those words I hope they can be written on your body when I squeeze you with a visceral embrace. 
I want them tattooed on your skin so you won't forget the effect you have on me.
When you go away, I repeat to myself your stories so they can become your presence in mental verses that entertain the long hours that insist on keeping us apart.
Some days the fears that bounds us whisper tales to my ears, contradicting all the love poems we create together when tangling our bodies in our late night dances...
From far away I see you hiding behind the turbulence of new emotions. 
My soul scream for you to dive into their waves, but my body swims away with a naive intention to protect my heart. 
In vain my arms try to reach shore not knowing the heart that once beat inside me is long pounding in your ears... 
According to your own pace...
From here, lacking oxygen in every cell, I can only observe still, hoping someday the music will start again... 
On one of those late nights with so much, so much... I love you.

P.A.O.

I understand not being understood.

I know the feeling of bizarre compassion.

I know the end of every story.

I crave skins and whispers.

I count the dots on the subway floor to avoid thinking of my painful flesh.

I hear sounds everywhere to stop the silence telling me the truth.

I write nonsense in verses to calm down the years of violence and confusion.

I see you through magic eyes to bear the look in your face.

I consistently am inconstant to survive the boredom I taste when I lack enthusiasm. Normally it happens in empty mornings when the light is still cold.

I cover my feet with funny shoes to distract judging concepts and foolish behaviors.

I give imaginary hugs to old people talking by themselves in the subway.

I love them all.

I suffer imagining their lonely lives when windy nights wake them up.

I walk fast to leave behind the thoughts that wake me up every night.

I walk fast to live behind you.

I scream to deaf hearts conjugating wrong verbs to maintain the confusion that allows me to be left behind.

I adore claiming guts and daring rats.

Tell me a secret and the world will know it.

Give me love and I'll laugh like a bird fucking a tree.

Call me dear and I read you your fortune.

Just leave me alone and I stop writing... (lies).