Categoría: Insomnio
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Algo golpea en mi puerta.
Uno termina por comprender. Tarde, pero comprende. Uno se piensa así mismo como víctima de circunstancias, del amor y desamor, de la vida, de las decisiones. De los instintos de supervivencia. Y se cuestiona… Hoy pasó algo. Tuve el pasado en mis manos y lo más curioso, es que lo ví claramente. Lo bueno y lo…
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Unless you wish it.
Lord Byron, 25 August, 1819. My dearest Teresa, I have read this book in your garden;–my love, you were absent, or else I could not have read it. It is a favourite book of yours, and the writer was a friend of mine. You will not understand these English words, and others will not understand them,–which…
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A message in a bottle.
As small messages in bottles thrown into the ocean, hoping to come to you as brief signs that I think of you as well, every time you think of me I call upon you also. Every night, though I resist, there is always a thought for you. I always kiss you goodnight and whenever something…
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