los animales del cuerpo

Del cóncavo al convexo no hay mucha vuelta, es cuestión de encontrar la forma indicada en el momento justo y ver que todo encaje en el espacio sugerido. Si nada encaja y las relaciones son buenas, entonces estamos claros que es solo amistad… para que forzar acciones sin futuro. Si todo encaja menos el humor, nos limitaremos a la práctica sin más esfuerzo que el hola y hasta la vista…. Ah! pero si el humor encaja y las piezas caen todas en su lugar…. en ese caso... yo pongo el vino y tu la cama.

visperas

hoy no se quien es juan ni juana ni su hermana, o si el señor que instala la puerta hace ruido y no me deja concentrar....si este país está cada día peor y no hay futuro.... ya no se si entender o no entender.... si oir o no... me mudaba ya no me mudo.... me moria, ya no muero.... entendía ya no entiendo, lloro y luego.... tarán! recuerdo: me llegará la regla

the machine

-this machine!!
She said with the certainty it was her machine, as if she knew it from before.
-this is my machine!
She said in the middle of thousands, millions, even zillions of machines, she just picked this tiny, childish ship and with the argument she knew it was the right one.
I just work here; I can’t determinate if she was telling the truth. But the thing is she wanted that machine and she wanted it now. She was kind of rushing-flushing me, pointing my arm and start to passive-sweet-jelling on my ear:
“This machine is what I need!”
And I said: OK Miss, but you have to wait in line 1 month for this one, and she responded,
“This machine is what I love”.
My preoccupation started. How can she say to love a peace of plastic? (I asked my mind, I did not say a word)
She just responded again:
“Because it’s plastic and is fantastic”
I just looked at her with a surprised-sarcastic-impassionate face on my side.
Now she just took my arm and as if I was a 4 years old misbehaved started almost singing-screaming-swallowing-crying-saying:
This machine is what I want!
is what I need!!
is what I love!!!
is what I lost!!!!!
So what could I do at this point with this insane at my side saying all that stupid-harmonious words?
We just started dancing…

nonsences

Desde el suscito pulpidio Johannes me soscilaba sin estopar, cosa que me insolaba la memoria, me orcojaba el triunvirato y me enlimuraba las sienes.
-Claro que te escarpolo!
-Claro que te escaroleo!
prometìa
Sin saber que ya mis sienes hacìa luces que opturolaban sin èl.