Statistics Of Heat Strokes

... "The poem that I say, do not deserve. Fear of being two way mirror, someone in my sleep, I eat and drink me '...

Pizarnik, "Tree of Diana"

It is impossible (at this stage of the game, life, and so into the night) to deny you've taken possession of much of me. I write without thinking and your face ... closing his eyes, blurring my vision, I see it drawn perfectly in the back of my eyes, over the ears, temple, forehead and above the scalp. Arguably, being open and honest in the habit of writing and because externalize me pleasure to have known that ... because despite knowing the outcome of those words, I find this story as fascinating as your smile. And they (the words) are piled up in my mouth wanting to come to light, and I feel an irresistible arcade and a desire vomiting my metaphors that go beyond tolerance and human endurance. I get out of bed to cure my disease (of poets and madmen ... of madmen poets and mine ... damn poet des-balanced dissemination!) And the tip about the role imagination and technological . What crime have you, the readers and fellow blessed poems, that the rainbow is brighter these days?, What fault is that today moon type nonsense, and who has lost (in fact) reasoning from I met him?. I think both answers are: None. But there is no choice: kill the love or die trying to be happy.

Bethlehem