Archive for September 2009
A second
Tomorrow
I'm going to get cigarettes,
do not worry, I'll be away for a moment,
time out of your life.
Today I feel "light music".
After more 'than 40 years Stefano D'Orazio (instead of the drummer came Negrini if I am correct in 1971) leaving "the spaceship" Pooh.
Although many agree with the view of Stephen Horace the least gifted of the four least voice and ignoring the many voices who say that he is not playing and that is the whole "scene", tonight I would like to be at their concert .
I sincerely believe it will 'concoerto a rich and full of emotions that light melancholy that will make' the magic moment.
May like or not, but I think at least once in a lifetime we all sang Little Kitty, A lot of thought or desire for her (just to name 3 songs that everyone knows).
Personally I think that will continue to do something in the studio and live much less, perhaps with a few "reunion concert", but this' one of my personal idea.
A praise to Stephen, it takes more 'courage to say just' cause it feels to give ver already 'given everything to continue any relationship that lead to infertility.'
Absurd behavior
Knock at my door
at night
when it
I closed
demanding attention
I do not want
I can give.
And yet
from your lips
does not come out greetings
while
under the sun,
crossed the road.
Absurd behavior!
Again
Do not open '
False world
Turncoat
Walk on the brink
A journey
"But who made me do?". This was the recurring thought of Delia looking out the window while the train was running.
Alone, almost always, had accepted that appointment in the dark.
Yes, of course, with Michael, known in a dating site, they had heard and seen through the webcam ... but they never touched it 'smelt.
Delia had been prepared with care, as he had not for years. It was day to choose how to dress, giving importance to the intimate which was to be intriguing but still stay sober.
And then the clothes had been discarded by the suit, then the doubt began between skirt and trousers, shirt and sweater from.
At the end he opted for a gypsy style long skirt and a white shirt very lightweight.
The close was strictly black with satin and lace, a little 'to do it out of his shirt, a little' to give contrast to her milky skin. Finally makeup, nail polish and esthetician.
How many nights spent thinking about that moment, how many repressed desires in bed, cold showers and caresses and now, that that blessed train was running, she wanted to go back.
Too many questions ... too many expectations ...
Longed and feared the contact, first contact, if he had not given the shock, the shock?
It felt damn a girl on a first date, tense and shy but at the same time excited and craving (during the trip several times found himself tighten and release your thighs and think about whether or not to close the bathroom).
Stations and passed landscapes and crazy thoughts continued to alternate as in a tribal dance where everything 'chaos in a certain order.
With only 10 minutes late to the train left the dock in a foreign city that he remembered only as a child.
He headed toward the lobby, the appointment was the newspaper.
She crossed a glance, who supported her.
He stopped, approached her.
No words, just a long, unending kiss that made her dizzy making them give in the knees.
Michael took her hand and led her to her car. The simply asked "Do you want to?" To which they replied with his head.
Michael set in motion in the direction of a room to share an afternoon of passion and love, while a young radio Baglioni singing burlesque "the fear and the desire to be naked."
offer me a coffee ... If you like what I write .... and to make the site live. Thanks At 10.40
I have nothing to reproach myself, and I am calm, as they say walk tall.
I said that I am contacted and told me that today would be 13 in my part and if so could inontrarci 'to give her my book.
You all know and if you do not know now what I say and repeat it takes to FdP.
Do you know or can imagine what it means for me to know that another copy and 'lived and loved, but already' once I was accused of "maintaining a friendship" to sell "2 copies of my book", so now ... I prefer limit my "flight", but do not fall into the same error.
M'hanno reported ...
Yes, because 'you should know that those who "complain" and' one of those ghosts that control, follow, judge ... without ever exposing himself, one of those people: "I do not give more 'anything, I do not want to know, but' .... " but 'I always throw the ball.
And then I make a collection of those rings and more.
Comfort me 'with a slice of cake .... I want you too? (Yes. ... Always you who read anonymously)
Crematory
for me it is only if you've been good
You are the clown and the child
I have everything in the circus
and I live only what they are
in the evening when I melt the trick
rediscover that are also under a clown
But I am well here instill
in my face and my false
I am well here but unfounded
finding in what they are
A little 'freedom
Oh no! Do not laugh because
you know better than I.
I no longer want to answer
because you
you are like me
Are the sphere of a soothsayer
is written in my designs and see your future
You are the clown and the child
I will pay dearly for every man his smile
in the evening when I melt the trick
rediscover that are also under a clown
and the mirror of the dressing room
I do live for the same drug,
the vanity
I am well here but unfounded
between the networks of my circus that does not go well here, but I'm instill
finding in what they are
a bit 'of freedom
Oh No! Do not laugh because
you know better than I.
I no longer want to answer
because you,
you are like me
Tango
Dance step,
slipped and calm.
Eye to eye,
tangle of legs,
of bodies.
Embrace of syncopated notes:
"Sad thought that is danced."
A few minutes:
a love story
and not 'only
a rose between his lips.
Between the lines
I will not be looking for you
I end up,
when you do not have fears.
No promise,
Unbound
no words
for no reason;
adobe
and mud mortar,
foundation
of a relationship
never started
and infinite.
If you seek me
I
on the wet grass,
looking at the stars.
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