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Mar 2016
threw your eyes
y became human,
y breath, and let go  
anger and pain.

starting to feel
that i am not alone, that neruda
understood, in his poem
the queen.

theres more bigger than you there are
ther are prettier than you, there are
there more little than you, there are
but i named you mi queen, and no one
sees, your walking threw the air, no one sees
the red gold carpet that you walk on.

the loved one, queen of
mi empire of words, that no one
knows only her, every photo, breaking
our departed love, every smile in the distance
was my excuse to carry, each day.
and that she understand me.

but the secret is now semi public,
nights come with all the rush,
even then y can and must be cool,

loneliness is hard, the distance
it is the pain, remorse not,
only letting go is the chance,
be the beast, be the lion,

loving in secret, keeping the loved distance
that allowed me to love in secret,
even nigthmares are on your count,
nights and pain, making poems out
of life, and if not aloud me to do so,
pain killer nights to forget that
the light of mi eyes, is far away, and i need to touch
someone, so no lover.

but the need of your skin, the need
of my eyes, to see the objective goddess
that they love and desire, is like the need
for her smile, her strawberry jam smile.

its you, the lady that owns mi heart.
cest bonn, touche. being folish,
departed from the creeps in my brain,
the need for that most wanted, is poorly
tolerated, the fever is giant, and lonesome
of love is the poem, but always alone,  
after all, the beast must go on,

in tree years or so, would y be free,
after the lies and deicit, after the hurm,
after all, the love is everywhere, and the friend
is more loved then ever, and the rest of mi heart
it suffers as always, and more this tree years,

all the clues given in this, all the mugle talkers,
respect is a need of the offenders, to feel something
it all, all is clear, love hurts, the need is clearer then ever
respect is and should be a rigth, human and animal.

time is no longer their option, and the flux of words are
stucked, in the eyes of the mate, holding a little
piece of my heart, all is clear, and the need of
pain is no longer my addiction, after all the pain,
y grew up, and decide to love, and split myself,

one too big, one too small, im a pig,
that love them both, the mate and the love,
all is clear in mi movi bubble, even the
clear is clear now, about it all, the two
pieces of my heart, le amour,ahh,  le ami
adore, le belle chanson, la belle et la bette,
je sui la bette, cest tout la belle bette cheri,
mon petite bette adore.

all is ´past, never take the blame
for cowards, or say sorry for them,
never say sorry, for the hurm, you
never did, past is prologue, and love
can save the day after all.

je adore le pettite bette,
ladrona de corazones.
carlota the heart thief.
DAVID
Written by
DAVID  SANTIAGO
(SANTIAGO)   
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