Librería Samer Atenea
Librería Aciertas (Toledo)
Kálamo Books
Librería Perelló (Valencia)
Librería Elías (Asturias)
Donde los libros
Librería Kolima (Madrid)
Librería Proteo (Málaga)
The night is cold and bleak is composed of versesthat explore the mysteries of love,shattered humanity, life, and a fling with Death. I hunger I hunger for things that have a soulIf you have one, I will eat you... I know a womanwho, in order to breathe, writes a line or twoof poetry I also know a manwho dances, nakedin moonlightwith the ghostof his beloved I ate them. I hunger for things that have a souland I am starving Because when I showthe worlda beautifulred rosethey onlyseethe thorns. I killed myselfI killed myselfa thousand timesin fictionso thatI could facethis lifewithout losingmy Soul.With her arms crossedWith her arms crossed behind her backtrapped in a pillowcase,she was a candle in the night'Write a poem on me' she saidand I obeyed, very carefullyFirst, with my lips, thenwith my tongue, I wroteslowly on her canvaswhile she held me with her eyes –eyes that spread out like branchestouching the biggest starsMore luminous than the evening,I tore the night to piecesand dipped into her soul'Be gentle' she whispered with a sigh,like a soft flower to the moonwhile I continued to contemplate the fire,burning her secrets with my desireWith my lips replete with her kissesand her breaths breaking on my skin to the sound of grace,she bit my shoulder, and pulled me up from the depths of the earthto the sun blazing in her bodyI pressed her cheek against the pillowand watched her melting, with every thrustThe sheets, wet and swollen,wild with dreamsShe whimpered, cryingtears of the moon –yet she was glowingWe died that nightWe died that nightwhen I sankdeepinto her armsand drowned,she held my handto the other sideof life.
