El dolor
no es ya el abismo
que mirabas
boca arriba
escrutando el techo
sin respuesta.

El dolor parece ser
una flecha
que miras de frente,
apuntando a tu mente.

De cualquier modo,
no lo quiero,
no lo deseo,
quiero alejarlo de ti,

de tu pecho,
de tu boca,
de tus ojos,
de tu frente.

Ver la entrada original

The Unforgiven

I can’t stand this
for too long,
so I will be brief:

You never heard that song,
but it was about you,
about us.

But it is not anymore.

Because I forgave you, d,
right there on the spot,
and even since long before.

I forgave everything,
I told you so,
in your ear, d,
when you were d…

I’m completely fucking broken up.)

Madly :)

No, I don’t like cars.
But now my bag is full of them.

And certainly
I don’t like the
‘ba-ba’… balón,
or to play futbol.

And no, my name is not ‘dadá’
or ‘dedé’,
or just a plain loud cry.

Nor do I like the perpetual chaos
and the mess.

Oh, boy, but how much I laugh these days.

: )

And how thrilled I am now
to see a helicopter
or a ‘cuac’,

la lavadora,
el coche
o el ‘guagua’.

And how scared I am
of your ‘cara de monstruo’
or your shark bites.

And how grateful I am
when you fall asleep
in my arms.

But more than that,
I am madly in love
with the perfect cabezota
that you have.

And I absolutely did love
the way you said today

: )