Solitary ManHe, of laminated paper; she, full of lucid emotions, finally clearer and sincere.
But among them stands a figure that breaks the protocol.
He enters her thoughts and sullies his privacy to find out that she is dominated by an authentic passion for life, which flows in the veins mixed with blood, giving strength to his artistic soul.
He has no specific age. It comes from the kingdom where nobody dies.
Sometimes feel that he is dying alive, and his only hope is the death.
He calls the living dead his friends, and calls the living, his executioners.
How many times when laugh also cries... His soul cries when her face laughs.
You are always, when I close my eyes, when I open the window, you are the image in the palm of my hands, what people see in my eyes.
You are what you are not with anyone, literary night, pulsation of death, ridiculous promise and love.
She: A black line extends her eyes ... Blurs the gray pencil, trying to make them even more beautiful. White teeth taste like mint. A