Longing Time

"English Time. Words in the capital of the new-spanish-indian language. The real capital of America. America with hope and faces. Stories written in skins of love and sadness. Yesterday was the time of the tequila and music. Old love and the extreme necessity to forget the dreams to see new nights with other eyes, the eyes of the tequila. Tonight, after the beer and walk beside the rain, listen all noises arriving to silence de voces inside the skin.

Two minutes to be tomorrow. Masks. Sun. Noises to return to the site called home. Earth may be is the home but in the mountains, far in the south, it exists the bed to sleep often, and sometimes making love. Among the clouds, masks are not important. As the stars. Only the silhouettes and voices, the rain the face and the sweat on the body are the ink to write passion and love stories. Sufficient to forget the soul let for dreams of a woman. Two minutes and the tomorrow arrives. 

Masks. Silence. Sunday arrives in silence. Time to sleep. Longings are more real in night dreams, among the sheets, and although they will flee on the day with reality. The lies appear there, sickeningly. For this reason the masks exists. Times in hot to find in the skin of other girl, the sufficient pleasure to write a song. Stories from streets of the capital of the continent. The origin and end of other legend told in stone and fire."