Remembering who we are

Butterflies flying inside me, for no reason. There are many, only one possesses me, which I want to get rid of. My bad spectrums must dissapear, I'll keep the dark ones, those that provoke my dreams. Those that feed my passionate side. Those that I love.

Last night I dreamt about you, It was a kind of loving triangle As if Shakespeare came back with those angels and spirits. Some were kind of angry, You were kind of sweet. Wilderness, passion and freedom came in. Stretching beauty, as Homer wrote to please and delight.   A scarlet thought, but full of purity tho. Thou my platonic love, Thou my better angel, Thou my darling thou

Un cúmulo de esperanzas muertas, que yacerán en el pasado. Y una bolsa de ilusiones que él se llevó.

Y llegó de nuevo, vestida de negro, contemplando nuestras vidas, con todo su derecho, incitándonos a pensar, recordar lo sufrido, lo querido. Nunca se ira. Y por si poco fuere, seduce la mente, nos provoca el sueño. Y despertar con esa sensación de haber vivido lo soñado. Es la noche, aquella que hechiza el pensamiento.