Cansado de relojear reloco en el dínamo de la noche reventada. Me impulso de los anhelos que anidaron en otras mentes.
Los escucho como un murmullo, como una catarata de sinfonías a veces, mientras el aire, el aire está cargado de perfumes.
Unas voces me contradicen, y son las cavilaciones de calaveras crackeadas por el mambo.
Un rumor de dudas llueve como el viento, y me río de sus mandíbulas flojas. Apilo sus huesos, mientras cavo graciosamente nuestras tumbas.
Se mofan de mí. Se burlan del tiempo. O no comprendiendo la corriente, se sientan a divagar. Y yo los como y los vomito y los vuelvo a mezclar con la tierra pura.
Quisiera que nos olvidemos, pero me buscan y nos perdemos. Y empieza el ciclo otra vez. Me arrojan un poco de su carne podrida, para enamorarme. Y yo les sigo la onda.
Colecciono sus pesares, durante un rato. Y luego los castigo, olvidándolos para siempre.
Buscando lo nuevo, lo que está por venir, me libero de todo este bagaje de pensamientos inútiles.
Encuentro a mis amigas en la naturaleza, descansando en la luz, y creciendo al ritmo de las lunas.
Yo las miro, y secretamente las amo a todas.
Me abandono en el flow, para ser ahora el susurro de tu mente.
O un eco.
O un silencio.
Tired of clockwork, I relocate in the dynamo of the busted night. I impulse myself from the yearnings that nested in other minds.
I hear them as a murmur, like a cataract of symphonies at times, while the air, the air is full of perfumes.
Some voices contradict me, and they are the musings of skulls cracked by the mambo.
A murmur of doubt rains like the wind, and I laugh at his limp jaws. I stack his bones, while graciously digging our graves.
They mock me. They make fun of time. Or not understanding the current, they sit to wander. And I eat them and vomit them and mix them again with the pure land.
I would like us to forget ourselves, but they seek me and we get lost. And the cycle begins again. They throw me some of their rotten meat, to make me fall in love. And I follow them.
I collect your regrets, for a while. And then I punish them, forgetting them forever.
Looking for the new, what is to come, I free myself from all this baggage of useless thoughts.
I find my friends in nature, resting in the light, and growing to the rhythm of the moons.
I look at them, and secretly love them all.
I abandon myself in the flow, to be now the whisper of your mind.
Or an echo.
Or a silence.
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