hb ty n tm

a year has already past...what can I say...happy birthday to you 'eyes that read', and to me' hand that writes'.

the green

No one's like you and knowing that hurts ...it's a slow quiet pain; you can live with it, but it's always there. 

The distance widens between us in an artificial way, we both know that's not the case...We are still here.... aren´t we? The gap opens by the second but something remains.

...Our past is heavy, thick and green like those lands we born into, like the deep forest you hold in your eyes. A green so deep once you've been on it there is no exit to the daylight...still, the sun rises for both of us...and the moon...the moon was never ours. We never explored those depths; didn't need to... was as if they were never there. Yours was the light, mine was the smile, our world had the beauty of a white table cloth, the warmth of hot drink in a cool day...we were happy dragonflies over a small lake...just wind and water, pale sunlight for our wings...

a Misu

urba garath a lo que no se puede expresar