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Eclogue

A unborn

for Many hours and days pass ever soon That

the tides Have Caused the flame to dim

At last the arm is straight, the hand to the loom

Is this to end or just begin?

" A ll of my love", Led Zeppelin.

I

watch my hands, this time, like many others, do not hold anyone, do not answer the obvious questions, no way aware of what unknown. Certain times, when under the guard always appear the same questions, then I imagine in the arms of other hearts, smiling and excited, would be women high, low, dark, simple and lofty, is not yet possible to determine, only trust your tears creates the connection and history restart.

II

wildly My room was lit by the dawn light announced the bombing of a busy day, was the semifinal of a tournament and should arrive early. Blue pants, orange shirt, black jacket and brown shoes, I ran, huachafo to infinity, but always confident about my talent, not yet exist that elusive concept, sorry. The whereabouts was creating the strategy to win quickly and get out as soon as possible for whatever reason.

She was asleep, I see her thinking of the embraces and caresses of September, the month reached genesis of great love, in fact he did not remember his face, but unconsciously memorized their personal tastes, I could imagine in any situation with exact words emanating from his mouth promiscuous, his room flooded with alcohol, echoed the kisses she received from him, hated her for not knowing me, and he despised him for leaving without much pain, yea, I hated it because he had set his heart at a distance impossible to attack, did not suffer, like me, to not see him suffer.

bus route again distracted, reading signs and streets, and suddenly, the song he had tuned the driver stopped the hearts and accelerated other muscles, was the summum of the cosmos, beautiful, strong and destructive track of who knows what pace. Did not they invent more than men who got involved in rock? Robert Plant was singing without knowing that I changed to lower whereabouts before and not continue torturing me with their messages of Saturday morning.

III

On nights where the suicides plague the street when the morning revived the most dangerous corners of the city, and they are filled with trash and drunks, I think in life you and without you. When someone dies who did not want to die, when someone suffers in the next room, I can only think of you. In your hair does not grow that force me to hide under not one, not pat anyone, that I am not dead inside me for you. It's sad that reveal a vague picture was never taken, a birthday is not happy, another month without hope. I wonder if it would have felt the oppression of your past accepting the sentence, otherwise forget and surrender to the flow of life, which always carries with rocks and mud, which always chokes and kills without shame.

I wonder if I cried with me.

IV

your father singing a song while I held her, after the semifinal, when we are sub-champions in October two years ago after long journey to make that decision that I would retain their voice in my memory, after games, and rocked, he embraced what was left of me.

symptoms disappeared, his voice again in the morning in dark evening, was the first time I heard Amy was the first time I knew abandoned for a better match. It was the first time as Eric Clapton lost his Tears in heaven, or Robert Plant All of my love. You were dying and I flooded in the middle of October of that frustrated musician-writer relationship. How I loved you then, and how much power accumulated in my sadness. She was for him and you disappeared for us.

vampire world and I took him by my side, whenever I see you in the arms of others imagine the endless chances of your name. Tonight I am with two cathedrals over my mouth, I decided to listen tonight Robert Plant, tonight I decided to start embracing my unborn child in a body that never fled.

toast to you and for forgiveness. Is there forgiveness in the afterlife?