I see you through the window and wonder if you're thinking the same thing. It's just coincidence that fate puts us face to face, I'll be crazy immersed in my thoughts and see my eyes change as I watch you blink. Every time you glance out the window, my eyes divert towards the other side of the street; today reading, yesterday taking sun and tomorrow to see myself. I'm faithful to the principles of love but the morbidness you give me is a problem that I write to channel.
The worst thing isn't being sick, the worst is that it infects my own desires with your desire. Oh Sun that shines from the other side can you see the same as I or only the shadow of my home generates delirium. What book are you reading will it be a love novel or vulgar eroticism will it be poetry or something harder to philosophize. If I yell at you from the other side I'll make you smile or generate a dispute. I'd ask your name so I can call out to my morbo like that. Maybe that would satisfy my lust but even if my mind gives up my body would ask for more because it always asks for more.
With a hat you're hiding from the sun or just hiding your gaze, even though you've placed yourself in a position covering yourself right now, your hat is pointing towards my balcony. Are you thinking the same thing as I am? All I know is that I'm going to make you a song. What it will be about, I already know, but how I'll say it is a mystery; I'll be able to portray this furtive passion, I'll be able to control the fire that burns inside me because while we're like this, I'm capable of writing. You turn your back and bend down so sublime and exciting; will you do it on purpose or am I a damned stalker? The more time passes, the more I believe it, or why do your hips always point towards my vision. Smoking a joint at the window gives me reason to be going crazy, in some moment something revealing will happen, this tedious situation has become art. I'd like to know how to paint to portray you and for you to see until where my imagination is capable. I think I'm becoming addicted to pretending to be a hunter who's being devoured by such a prey, by such ambition. You're there trapped princess in prison and I'm your main pursuer ready to release all the sting that threatens you and all the pleasure you yearn for because satisfaction is right in front of you so you can be my slave temptation.Some day you'll see me by your window, you'll read my lips and open the way to your enchanting downfall.
I hope you like it, if I have time and my girlfriend doesn't find out, I'll write my story...
The worst thing isn't being sick, the worst is that it infects my own desires with your desire. Oh Sun that shines from the other side can you see the same as I or only the shadow of my home generates delirium. What book are you reading will it be a love novel or vulgar eroticism will it be poetry or something harder to philosophize. If I yell at you from the other side I'll make you smile or generate a dispute. I'd ask your name so I can call out to my morbo like that. Maybe that would satisfy my lust but even if my mind gives up my body would ask for more because it always asks for more.
With a hat you're hiding from the sun or just hiding your gaze, even though you've placed yourself in a position covering yourself right now, your hat is pointing towards my balcony. Are you thinking the same thing as I am? All I know is that I'm going to make you a song. What it will be about, I already know, but how I'll say it is a mystery; I'll be able to portray this furtive passion, I'll be able to control the fire that burns inside me because while we're like this, I'm capable of writing. You turn your back and bend down so sublime and exciting; will you do it on purpose or am I a damned stalker? The more time passes, the more I believe it, or why do your hips always point towards my vision. Smoking a joint at the window gives me reason to be going crazy, in some moment something revealing will happen, this tedious situation has become art. I'd like to know how to paint to portray you and for you to see until where my imagination is capable. I think I'm becoming addicted to pretending to be a hunter who's being devoured by such a prey, by such ambition. You're there trapped princess in prison and I'm your main pursuer ready to release all the sting that threatens you and all the pleasure you yearn for because satisfaction is right in front of you so you can be my slave temptation.Some day you'll see me by your window, you'll read my lips and open the way to your enchanting downfall.
I hope you like it, if I have time and my girlfriend doesn't find out, I'll write my story...
1 comentários - From the other balcony