ganas de darle al tiempo mi mano, y que me guíe.

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ganas de darle al tiempo, lápiz y papel para que conteste mis preguntas.

 

preguntas sueltas

y como será volverte a ver.

que dirán tus ojos,

que querrán mis manos.

la lucha, entre la timidez y la torpeza..

entre el querer y el deber,

tus ganas y las mías.

Milos Forman RIP

“The censorship itself, that’s not the worst evil. The worst evil is — and that’s the product of censorship — is the self-censorship, because that twists spines, that destroys my character because I have to think something else and say something else, I have to always controlmyself. “ Milos Forman

sin más

por encontrarme, te dejo, por cuidarme me alejo
a pesar & sin alivio, pero en paz.
porque dejarte es elegirme
porque por lo que falta, se termina
y lo que sobra no basta.
por un adios sin aviso
y un hasta luego sin futuro.
te dejo.

the journey – poem by david whyte (via brainpickings.org)

(when leaving is arriving)

Above the mountains
the geese turn into
the light again

Painting their
black silhouettes
on an open sky.

Sometimes everything
has to be
inscribed across
the heavens

so you can find
the one line
already written
inside you.

Sometimes it takes
a great sky
to find that

first, bright
and indescribable
wedge of freedom
in your own heart.

Sometimes with
the bones of the black
sticks left when the fire
has gone out

someone has written
something new
in the ashes of your life.

You are not leaving.
Even as the light fades quickly now,
you are arriving.