Stories...Ficcion... Reality...Dreams.

The door was left open

Windows fall ajar

Desire hurts, waits, roars... stares

Dark almond eyes, my eyes

Piercing my few good intentions

or what was left of them...

Malicious smile that I recite.

I had created many longing moments between us...

My dreams disolve between reality

I can't distinguish what was real and what's not...

Past Lives

I was torn apart and my heart was racing so fast. I could never let myself be an instrument of someone else’s motifs. I deceive the proposal. A girl, an agreement, a match that had to be unchained... The year 1565 and love was defined as a condescending attitude. Where were passion, reasoning and independence in love?

I was not anyone’s property. His... I already was his, not a "thing", but his everything. He was the one who opened up all the feelings that led to remorse now. He was the one who filled my heart with hopes and wings of something more. I could not be anyone's but his... Escape, run, hide. Hope for him to find me...

Present Moments

I couldn't breathe, I try to pretend I was in control, but the truth was that my heart was pumping so loud and my pores were screaming of pleasure at the touch of his skin. I was losing any sense of coherent attachment to time, space and place. It was the first summer I understood what a summer love was...But the fact was that it started much earlier, growing stronger to explode in summer... It was as if we hadn’t stopped talking, or seeing each other. It was so powerful, beyond my strength…