The important things are always simple
I do not want to be your compass neither you my reason to be. I do not intend to elevate the renunciations, neither the dependence, neither the tamagotchis, neither the oranges halfway. I do not aspire to occupy places neither i would like to leave holes. Me not captive the idea to lease you the center of my universe neither that of having that to pay punctually the rent of yours. Not, clear that does not desire me that we be one; in fact, what truly I need is that we be two.
It would be a deception to know that the love is the best of your life and an offense to accept that nothing there is better in mine. Discerning your engraved face in my mirror, my surname in your mailbox. Discovering a day that in this tráfago ferocious of double sense the customs have been erased, the identities have been impelled, the capital letters they have strayed themselves of the You and of the I.
I want to see you and to admire you. That see me and admire me. I complete in me, you culminated in tí. Being I and to be with you. Deliver us al another only by a ratito, as as a joke, innocent, naughty, blushed, almost to see what happens. And to count you, and that count me. And to feel you, and that you sit down me. And to know that you are, and to be there; but not as the north star of all your nights, neither like the sun supplier of all your days, but as a playful satellite that give you returns and can contemplate you in each appointment since a new angle, and be offered docile to a side of your sky so that, each time that decaigas, can raise the head and to find it to you reflecting your own light.
I know that there are nights, verses, landscapes, sighs, melodies that only will come I explore through your window, and you of mine. Also that there are nights, verses, landscapes, sighs, melodies that are not behind you neither of me, and that, if I want to discover them, if I want that discover them, we will have to learn to be only windows and not partitions in the life of the other. But you leave me to tell you, leave you to understand me that the heart not itself compartimenta, that does not contain a quantity limited of love that should be distributed reducing to one the portion that was delivered to another. That the satellites do not understand of jealousy and suffices with knowing that there is a point of the firmament that will always belong exclusively to them.
Trinkets in solfa
It would be a deception to know that the love is the best of your life and an offense to accept that nothing there is better in mine. Discerning your engraved face in my mirror, my surname in your mailbox. Discovering a day that in this tráfago ferocious of double sense the customs have been erased, the identities have been impelled, the capital letters they have strayed themselves of the You and of the I.
I want to see you and to admire you. That see me and admire me. I complete in me, you culminated in tí. Being I and to be with you. Deliver us al another only by a ratito, as as a joke, innocent, naughty, blushed, almost to see what happens. And to count you, and that count me. And to feel you, and that you sit down me. And to know that you are, and to be there; but not as the north star of all your nights, neither like the sun supplier of all your days, but as a playful satellite that give you returns and can contemplate you in each appointment since a new angle, and be offered docile to a side of your sky so that, each time that decaigas, can raise the head and to find it to you reflecting your own light.
I know that there are nights, verses, landscapes, sighs, melodies that only will come I explore through your window, and you of mine. Also that there are nights, verses, landscapes, sighs, melodies that are not behind you neither of me, and that, if I want to discover them, if I want that discover them, we will have to learn to be only windows and not partitions in the life of the other. But you leave me to tell you, leave you to understand me that the heart not itself compartimenta, that does not contain a quantity limited of love that should be distributed reducing to one the portion that was delivered to another. That the satellites do not understand of jealousy and suffices with knowing that there is a point of the firmament that will always belong exclusively to them.
Trinkets in solfa
Comentarios (0) - Referencias (0)
