17.5.06




Dientes negros y miradas bizqueantes para las noches de pleno verano, entre risas con sabor a hierro y vapores pestilentes. Jugar a ser trapecistas de bordillo, marearse de dar vueltas y poder caer de espaldas porque estarás para recogerme… todo eso. Y no he hecho más que empezar.


where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard rain's gonna fall

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