¿Por qué tienes esa alfombra tan fea, y sucia en el lavabo? - me dices con cara de asco -.
Primero: no es una alfombra fea. Es una alfombrilla de baño, sí, eso que usan las personas normales y corrientes, para apoyar los pies cuando salen de la bañera. Y no esta sucia. Es de color gris y está mojada, quizá eso de sensación de sucia. Pero te equivocas, a ver si vamos mirando mejor, antes de abrir la boca.
Me haces preguntas extrañas. Preguntas sobre como coloco los libros en la estantería. "Why not put the big books, with large and small, with small, why the mix? . Do not mix. I like that. I like them as they are. So my mother put the encyclopedias at home, but this is not my mother, is mine. And I have them because that's how I like them.
You always, with that air of knowing everything. You are perfectly imperfect. You. You've held my hand so many times, and has released several others. You. You gave advice then you never applied. I looked and told me, seriously: I had to stop missing you . And you called me, called me in the mornings, afternoons and evenings. When fear and loneliness, you said, stormed home. And you wanted to go down to the portal to wait for my arrival, scantily clad. No. You're not here, on the walls of my house. Or on the walls of the heart you left so broken and so alone. No longer miss you, baby. And let's look at your photos. These photos, for which he asked as his eyes go over every one of my shelves, when asked by that I have hung posters on the walls.
What did you think the only among women. You thought only your hand could make my body tremble. And you were not alone. And I've noticed, while crossing legs, sitting on my couch, sofa gray. Well, I see that you like the gray tones - I say, without taking your eyes off mine. Yes, so you left my life when you left that day, and today is part of the past. The left gray. So I had to color it gray sole. Based on hosts on the wall give me a basis to scream your name, and trample your memories in the kitchen, my bed, bath, everywhere. And today, you just sit there and ask me why I like both gray what do you think, sweetie?. Come
. It's time you go. My life goes on when you walk out that door.
come to dinner tonight friends. Yes, those friends you fell so bad, because I stole the time that could have happened to you. Selfish . That I told you that night, just before sweating together in bed. I asked for forgiveness, would not say what he really thought and said. And I hurt. Smite me with your absence, with the calls that never did, to go alone to the movies, with citations to those who never came, with afternoons and evenings, when I called and said nothing.
Anyway.
And now you're here. And it seems to want to stay. But in this house, no place for you. Yes, sorry, but she knocks on the door. She? -questions. Yes You thought I was alone?. No. Long ago I stopped cooking your memories in the kitchen. She is ... Well, wait. I'll introduce. Ah
what you're leaving?. Very soon, right?. Sorry. not want to hurt you - I say, while firing at the door.
No, you hurt me, tranquil. Just that I still love - stutter.
back whenever you want, I say, smiling shyly.
do not think - tell me.
elevator and the noise bursts that leave space when you leave. You're gone. And it's funny, I feel a little empty.
A voice. From the lounge. Call me. She is. My love, my new love: my future.
I'm coming baby.
Coming.
Primero: no es una alfombra fea. Es una alfombrilla de baño, sí, eso que usan las personas normales y corrientes, para apoyar los pies cuando salen de la bañera. Y no esta sucia. Es de color gris y está mojada, quizá eso de sensación de sucia. Pero te equivocas, a ver si vamos mirando mejor, antes de abrir la boca.
Me haces preguntas extrañas. Preguntas sobre como coloco los libros en la estantería. "Why not put the big books, with large and small, with small, why the mix? . Do not mix. I like that. I like them as they are. So my mother put the encyclopedias at home, but this is not my mother, is mine. And I have them because that's how I like them.
You always, with that air of knowing everything. You are perfectly imperfect. You. You've held my hand so many times, and has released several others. You. You gave advice then you never applied. I looked and told me, seriously: I had to stop missing you . And you called me, called me in the mornings, afternoons and evenings. When fear and loneliness, you said, stormed home. And you wanted to go down to the portal to wait for my arrival, scantily clad. No. You're not here, on the walls of my house. Or on the walls of the heart you left so broken and so alone. No longer miss you, baby. And let's look at your photos. These photos, for which he asked as his eyes go over every one of my shelves, when asked by that I have hung posters on the walls.
What did you think the only among women. You thought only your hand could make my body tremble. And you were not alone. And I've noticed, while crossing legs, sitting on my couch, sofa gray. Well, I see that you like the gray tones - I say, without taking your eyes off mine. Yes, so you left my life when you left that day, and today is part of the past. The left gray. So I had to color it gray sole. Based on hosts on the wall give me a basis to scream your name, and trample your memories in the kitchen, my bed, bath, everywhere. And today, you just sit there and ask me why I like both gray what do you think, sweetie?. Come
. It's time you go. My life goes on when you walk out that door.
come to dinner tonight friends. Yes, those friends you fell so bad, because I stole the time that could have happened to you. Selfish . That I told you that night, just before sweating together in bed. I asked for forgiveness, would not say what he really thought and said. And I hurt. Smite me with your absence, with the calls that never did, to go alone to the movies, with citations to those who never came, with afternoons and evenings, when I called and said nothing.
Anyway.
And now you're here. And it seems to want to stay. But in this house, no place for you. Yes, sorry, but she knocks on the door. She? -questions. Yes You thought I was alone?. No. Long ago I stopped cooking your memories in the kitchen. She is ... Well, wait. I'll introduce. Ah
what you're leaving?. Very soon, right?. Sorry. not want to hurt you - I say, while firing at the door.
No, you hurt me, tranquil. Just that I still love - stutter.
back whenever you want, I say, smiling shyly.
do not think - tell me.
elevator and the noise bursts that leave space when you leave. You're gone. And it's funny, I feel a little empty.
A voice. From the lounge. Call me. She is. My love, my new love: my future.
I'm coming baby.
Coming.
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