domingo, 26 de agosto de 2012

But now your head is a sandstorm

{Jorge}: and you still do not understand that other thing around you...

{Michelle}: Like what Jorge? It is not my head.

{Jorge}: Is it my head?

{Michelle}: I was just singing. In this moment I don't feel a storm in my head.

{Jorge}: I was just challenging a dual poetry.

{Michelle}: I have been losing those words.

{Jorge}: No Michelle.

{Michelle}: Because of the chaos it gives after leaving.

{Jorge}: And what would you feel if those words stopped to wither.

{Michelle}: I would feel what is to become in something I wouldn't. What if the rain is comming?

{Jorge}: To become for whom? or Why to become? Why not to just travel? But let it be to a place where you want to go! The rain may take what is erasable there, but fruits will grow from what is permanent.

{Michelle}: To travel is what I've wanted, I'll wait the rain to fall in this city; I know it will take away what must be taken away from your head, so we can go clean to present.

{Jorge}: And why not? to toast with a fruit punch by smiles and sips.

 Yatherine Morgan & Sir Metaphor. 

Current phrase:
"Love has ilimited forms but finite times." - Jorge L. Guzmán G.

*Have you read it from other source?