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My flannel pajamas and the sound of the microwave announcing that the coffee was ready. Days passed and no more good morning messages. Gone was that suggestive photo and, to my great regret, no more kisses that made my legs wet.
From you I know that I have not yet understood the meaning of punctuality. I came late in your life and now you are tired, your feelings are over, you have lived too much, you have accumulated too many fears. “The heart is like this” – alcanc…
My flannel pajamas and the sound of the microwave announcing that the coffee was ready. Days passed and no more good morning messages. Gone was that suggestive photo and, to my great regret, no more kisses that made my legs wet.
From you I learned that I had not yet understood the meaning of punctuality. I came late in your life, and now you are tired, your senses are over, you have lived too much, you have accumulated too many fears. “The human heart is like this,” I whispered, “it is full of bitterness and cannot accommodate more. In short, you have your fatigue and I have mine. I left the half-empty glass on the table.
You talk to me and I keep thinking about it, that clock you mentioned marks the time for me to leave, I’m going to say goodbye, and from today on I’m going to stop trying.
(frasepzp1)
The taste of this drink is of wasted desire and an unappeasable expiration date. The bitterest of liquors slept on my tongue when I heard your voice say, “I can’t love anyone else,” and the certainty fell on me like crushed ice, that in this game of love you would not bet on me, on chance, possibility and fear.
The title of these lines is a response to the famous TV show, Impossible. That’s how cheesy you make me, and this is the only thing I can hold you completely accountable for. From this and the astringent feeling that makes me know that in this city where I am, you will no longer have a place to live.
As I raise my glass, I embrace my blueberry heart, which trembles just as it did when I first felt your generous, pink tongue. The last glass of wine comes with a firm certainty, and I will miss the final expected sweet turn very much: you make me want. My love for you is unique. In these inhuman streets, I thought you would never get tired of it. Solid ice, bitter lemon and plenty of guaro: after everything that has happened, this is the filling of my soul.
(To be continued, waiting for the second round).
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