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The Rival

La Luna, if smile, you look like. Das

the same impression of something beautiful, but annihilating. Both
takers you are great light. O
His mouth grieves for the world is yours is
indifferent
and your first gift is to exchange it all in stone.
I wake up in a mausoleum, you're here
drumming his fingers on the marble table, looking
cigarettes
with resentment of women, but not so nervous,
dying to say something that does not support response.
moon also debases their vassals,
but in the light of day makes a fool of myself. CHT

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"I like and what I see, but what I see and I like, but can not find it - both the love-is wrong and that my pain is greater, not separate us from the open sea or the road, nor mountains, no walls behind closed doors a little water separates us! The same want to be taken, as many times approached my kisses to the clear water, many times he supports his mouth to me on his back.'d think that can be play, nothing is what stops the lovers. Whoever you may be, come here! Why deceive me, the only boy, and where you're going to be searched? Certainly not my looks or my age is the reason which you flee, for I loved even the nymphs. I do not know what hope you promise your friend's face, and when I extend myarms, you turn smears, when I laugh, laughing approved, also often noticed that you also cried when I cried by replying to my address with gestures and how beautiful I suspect the movement of your mouth to answer with words that hardly my ears "

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"I was a harp of gold, living strings strung, every time I tune, the wind played with me, the sun made me tense. But love hit a forte so passionate, that my strings broke ... However, I submitted the harp to a live fire and I put steel strings, and now I who press ... So I imagined everything that he had never seen anywhere, and which I have thirst "



(I'm in the beautiful terror)

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Luciana

nothing creepy before you can not answer down to earth this mail

truth I am very pleased to generate these effects in people like you

is sometimes a little lonely place that I live

and infinitely glad I cherish it as you say "Your for moments of despair."

a life in this world is possible
if you're interested in one of the fight we are putting together

ebsos and thanks a lot for your words so sweet and so fortifying

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"A Pushkin was killed because
never would have died a natural death,
have lived forever" ...
(From a letter written in 1931)



chapter begins as a favorite book of all our grandmothers and mothers-Jane Eyre-"The secret of the red room."
In the red room had a secret closet.
But before the closet was the picture of my mother's bedroom "The Duel."
Snow, branches, young trees black, two black people lead to a third party holding under the arms, to the sleigh, and one, the other away dma. From Pushkin's duel grew in my sister. I will say more-the word for me estómao is sacred, "even by the simple words" my stomach hurts "fills me shudder a wave of compassion that excludes all types of humor. We all shot in the stomach with this shot. (...)

Black and white, without spot color, my mother's bedroom, the window black and white: snow and branches of trees auqellos, a black box and white-"The Duel" where on whiteness of the snow makes a black action: the eternal action of the murder of black poet by the mob.
poet Pushkin was my first and my first poet - he was killed.
Since that time, before my eyes, to Pushkin in the box