Of your heart
Is the symbol
Of love...
Perhaps
Is because
When we love
We bleed
Inside
Red like a rose
That cuts our hands
And yet
We insist
In carrying
Her
While her thorns
Encrust
Into our hands
Red...
Love is red
And we bleed
To death
For it...
Bilingual Blog about poetry, short stories and some random pondering about life, culture and love as I understand it.
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Breaking Water
Motherhood is like that winter storm When everything comes to a halt And no one knows what to expect And things are done, when they are don...
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Listen, just listen to the hours They are trying to tell you something...
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Listen to the silence That speaks about the goodbye That we never said... Listen to the footsteps That sneak into our souls And scare t...
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To the music...the sensous rythm...the words wrotten by an excentric poet...it brings so many memories...of family reunions...special times ...
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