Yay, here he comes
The cliché doesn't exist by chance. It exists because there is a need for its existence. The cliché repeats itself because we all have an urge to see it again, we pray for it to happen. Then it arises again as a relief, a sweet predictability before the uncertainties of the next moment. Having everything under control is a universal tara, an opium, a permission to tear us apart. Who wouldn't want to live without at least one thing on the reins?
One dreams of a position in the public service because remuneration and stability are guaranteed. It devolves itself with its own house so that it is not vulnerable to the discretion of the landlord's rent. Babies and children who have at their disposal a consistent routine sleep better, learn better and regulate their emotions more efficiently. Routine and clichés aren't villains, they're support.
The system and society condemn the clichés and their subspecies, the routine. For the system, being stagnant is a sign of failure. Repeating a formula an endless time seems almost a crime in this world where we live. However, little is said about the benefits of adopting a comfort zone. A movie, a book or a cliche series is the safe haven of many people. There's a song we like to repeat all our lives. In a moment of vulnerability it is really important to resort to the comfort zone, it is almost as if it were a mother's lap and breast.
I leave here my greeting and appreciation to the clichés. Give flowers on Valentine's Day. Celebrate your birthday the same way you always do. Watch that movie again that you know by heart. Read that book again that you've memorized from top to bottom. Pull up the chair so someone else can sit down. Open the door for someone to come through. Cliché is full of kindness.
We repeat everything that's good. We do that perhaps in the hunt impossible to taste intense the first time. It won't be the same, and I always protest about it. However, if we were always to repeat the first time, it would not by far have the value and importance that we give it today.
So let us settle for the glass of water, even if it is not that ocean. Let's settle for the dried flower inside the book, even though it's not colored and alive as in the flowering of the tree. We'll settle for little, but always dreaming about a lot. That's it, it's the cliché a sugar, which we put in the daily bitterness. A fraction of an experience that has changed us so much that we insist on repeating it. A slice of the cake. But it's no small thing, it never will be. The cliche matters.
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Abrir linkInvitation
I'll give you an invitation, honey.
You saddle him with the roses gomes
The salad stirs the saliva, opens the appetite
The oil of ecstasy flows viscous
I'll rip his curtains, reveal your spots.
Plated in sculptural art
Avid fingers untie garments
Like we're dancing with fire
The flame consumes us
The kiss leaps from the lips to the belly
Strip me hungry
peel a tasty pomo
the flesh leaps long on your face
sinks down the throat
Soaking it from you
"Satisfied, make you the main course."
Inside your warm juice groove
macero-a, extract libido
We run together
by the skinside.
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Savagery
He rode wild
Crawling the nail on my mane
Having me between my thighs
♪ Swallowing me ♪
Quicksand
It was a violent stock.
Stabbing indecentness
Roçava and molasses the belly
It went back and forth, if it contracted
♪ I'm over the storm ♪
And she, thirsty, took me
Arfants, dehydrated, waning
There we die of love.
Metric
craze
the way of feeling
plot escape from accuracy
Blow into uncertainties
I'll drop the straws from home
to flap wings in the open
taste raindrop
step barefoot
alar in the feather of a bird
cultivating crop look
bud from the mouth changes
the dreamy tomorrow
Drop me in a fire
Don't give me censorship
To hell with the rules!
The damn thing breaks all over!
obey the demand:
To be unmeasured, unplanned
Love lost
disobey the right
be beyond mere number
cava lonjuras of the kilos
Christmas breaths
of the kilometers
You're more than distances
speeds
cubic meters
fractions
reasons
seconds
minutes
hours
Impress yourself!
I don't want anything else.
or your body
I don't want anything else.
or the dive
inside you
I crave your hedgehog
the hardened nipple
the gasp and moaning
the fire of your dermis
The mellow lips
I want to feel it dripping
about my hard meat
I want to hear your madness
See the delirium
with eyes closed
and open mouths
chew me
Let's eat
Although you're not satisfied
our feverish desire.
in your fire body
i allow myself to burn
burn in your sunskin
frenetic friction
manufactures fires
and currents
the flame kisses the water
we've pulsed hard
we echoed
we evaporated
we blew up!
quietly.
#
Proof
I feel it on the tip of my tongue
I know it by heart
The pleasure flows from your lips
Get rid of mine, drunk
We tasted Eden
desire snatches away.
the flesh grows
in your warm hands
Give me a fire laugh
saliva before meal
Dress me with velvet lip
floods the throttle limb
Then devour me
with tongue and saliva
thirsty
Suck me
As you wish
incessant, wild
Sucks all my pleasure
And don't be satisfied
O burning flower
I'll give you my nectar
I'll run down your throat
and you, burning flower
not happy
It will open your petal
will offer the intimate rosy
that in infinite joy
I'll penetrate.
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