viernes, 9 de octubre de 2015

One day, CR


Once, I wanted to build a house, full of windows, lights and carpets, and wooden floors cracking with every little step.

Once, I wanted to create a song that made me cry, with a flute instead of a piano, blue, blue song. Like Juliette Binoche, like the blue period of Picasso.

One day, I'll try to cry.

Once, I made love in the bed of a dead man. I saw him drinking coffee in the kitchen, he did not turn to say hello.

I heard the sky is blue today, but I won’t open my curtains to burn my skin with the sun. Such a distant star,  yet, so important.

Once, I tried to die under a different star. My blood … ever so beautiful.

Yesterday a gypsy read my palm in the street, she looked at me with piercing eyes and said: ‘Runs of luck, either good or bad, follow you, the high creative force can lead you either to happiness or total despair.'

I think we both know the answer. 

-CR VocalesV

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