round eyes through the bars.
eyelid, sfarfallinante animal
vague upward
passes a look.
Iris, vessel, dull and dreamless:
will be next, the sky, gray-heart.
retort, the nozzle of the iron
chipping fumigant.
the sense that light takes
you guess the soul.
(Were I like you. You like me.
not perhaps subject to the same event?
cast parties)
floor. Above
next to each other, the two gray puddles
heart
mouthfuls of silence
I saw you cry: the great bright tears
He covered that eye blue
E Then it seemed like a purple dripping dew
I saw you smile: the blaze of sapphire
Next to you ceased to shine
could not match the rays that look crowded
Vivid
As the clouds the sun away.
They receive an intense color and warm
that barely a shadow of the evening near
can hunt from the sky.
Those smiles stirs in
saddest pure joy
Their sun leaves behind a fire that shines on the heart
durassimo If ever
everything would change.
Given that we are mortal
Much remains as before.
Lucia Martinez.
Twilight of red silk.
your thighs, as the evening
ranging from light to shadow.
hidden black shadows darken your magnolias. Here I am
Lucia Martinez.
I come to consume her mouth
and dragged by her hair
in an aura of shells.
Because I want, and because I can.
Twilight of red silk.
not take away your memory.
Let alone in my heart,
tremor of white cherry
in the martyrdom of January.
separates me from the dead
a wall of bad dreams.
suffering pains of fresh lily
for a heart of stone.
All night garden
my eyes like two dogs.
All night, eating
the quince of poison.
Sometimes the wind is
tulip fears.
is a tulip sick
dawn in winter.
A wall of bad dreams
separates me from the dead.
The grass cover in the valley gray
silence of your body.
With all the plaster
fields were poor
rush of love, jasmine wet.
with Austria and flame of heaven
were wicked buzz of snow in my chest.
Skies and fields
chains around my hands shook.
fields and skies
whipped the wounds of my body.
Only your heart burning and nothing more. My paradise in the field without nightingale or lire, with a river and discreet a fountain. Without the spur of the wind above the foliage or the star who wants to be a leaf. A great light that was of another firefly in a range of looks vicious. A clear and there rest of our kisses, or the sound echo is open very far. Your heart is burning no more.
My heart like a snake
was stripped of his skin
and hold between my fingers
full of wounds and honey.
Thoughts
nested in your wrinkles, where are they?
Where the roses that smelled
of Jesus Christ and Satan?
Poor envelope that oppressed my star
fantastic! Grey parchment
sore
of what I wanted and now I love you more.
I see you in embryos of science, poetry
mummies and skeletons of ancient
my innocence and my romantic secrets.
you hang on the walls of my museum
sentimental
close to the cold and dark
lilies of my sleeping bad?
O you put above the pines
book
painful of my love because you know the trill of the nightingale
dawn?
see you naked is to recall the land
The flat ground and no horses
the ground without a cane, pure form
closed the future border of silver.
see you naked is to understand the anxiety of the rain
looking fragile hips
or fever sea
face immense light that is not on your cheek.
Blood resonate in alcoves
and will come with the sword of lightning, but you will not know where
lie at the heart of the toad and / or revenge.
Your belly is a clash of roots
your lips without dawn Profile
and trembling under the bed of roses
mourn the dead, waiting for their turn
The night will not come
is because you and I can go.
But I will go though a sun I eat the head.
But you'll come with my tongue burned by the rain of salt.
The day will not come because you will not be
and I can not go. But I will go
bringing my pink toads bitten. But you'll be
in the dark sewers of darkness.
Neither night nor day
not want to come because I die for you and you for me
Throw this ring
water
(shadow support
his fingers on my shoulder)
Throw this ring. I
over a hundred years. Silence! Throw this ring
water.
The mazes created by the time
vanish.
(
remains is the desert)
The heart
source of desire
vanishes
(
remains is the desert)
The illusion of dawn and kisses
vanish
;
remains only
the desert;
the undulating desert
I lose
brown in your country,
Maria del Carmen.
I lose
in your eyes uninhabited
playing the keyboard of your mouth ineffable.
In your embrace perpetual
would brown the wind and the breeze would
the velvet of your face I lose
in your breasts in the deep dark throbbing
your sweet body.
I lose
in your country brown
Maria del Carmen.
In the morning I wanted to be green
heart.
Heart.
Mature And in the evening, I wanted to be
nightingale.
Nightingale.
(Heart becomes orange.
Heart
becomes the color of love).
the morning alive,
I wanted to be.
Heart. And in the evening waned
wanted to be my voice.
Nightingale.
Heart becomes the color of orange!
Heart
becomes the color of love.
I did not want to tell you I did not want anything.
in your eyes I saw two trees
crazy.
breeze rice and gold.
oscillate. I did not want
I would not tell you anything.
François Bouvier is a Parisian lawyer said mannered and easygoing
spirit very acute.
Original and unconventional, showy and flashy sports clothes
and never hesitates to express his opinion openly and without unnecessary
turns of phrase. Each adventure is a fresco of his wisdom and humor
subtle, ingenious and unexpected to find that there
entertain and surprise us, thanks to
disarming lightness of his continual entry and exit of the box.
Again Patrizia Pera Riello uses his talents to art
witty observer of the surrounding reality and his ability to reinterpret
charged with slashing brushstrokes
expressive intensity. His narrative style combined with a taste for the unexpected
and the paradox, we offer a work engaging and enjoyable
emphasizing leaps and weaknesses of the human soul with a smile always
accomplice and good-natured.
View booktrailer at ...
http://booktrailer.corebook.net/booktrailer-le-avventure-di-francois
Jacques and Jean-Pierre, two brothers, penniless and inconclusive, it is unlikely improvise desperately seeking work in their own ways. Financial Advisors last minute, baby sitter little credibility, tailors clumsy ... until a phone call seems to finally be able to change everything! Albertine Merceret, the old aunt, a famous opera singer, wants to name his heirs! Finally can say goodbye to their problems, just get Aunt Albertine! Sounds easy, very easy ...! Maybe too much ...? During the unfolding of that history pass before our eyes funny scenes and hilarious twists that ultimately it seems unlikely they are so artfully constructed. All facets of the human soul are touched lightly with researched: ingenuity, ambition, suspicion, ingenuity and even love, alternate and mingle on the stage of misunderstanding creating a pleasant and gentle comedy.
Watch the book trailer at ...
http://booktrailer.corebook.net/booktrailer-siamo-gli-eredi-della-zia