las hermanas

 Vamonos chicos

Vamonos a ver la playa del sonriso 

La emotion del rayo del sol de la manana 

La vaga impression del maturidad de las hermanas 

Que hasta las sesenta anos van a ver las ninas del pasado 

Las ninas de ayer.

El amor que nunca se acaba. 

El amor del alma, de sangre. De ninez. 

 

the women inside

 The women inside the mother

The business woman

The child woman 

The woman that knows it all 

The vulnerable one 

The one that stick for her friends 

The one that hides from the world 

The one that kids smile to 

The scholar one 

The failure. 

The wife 

the mother of 2 

 

uncertain

 eyes that talk more than words.

clarity of kindred spirits.
temptations from the past.
kindness. laughter. a piece of the sun in your right eye. uncertainty.

Alternatives

Alternative universe flavors with spicy ques of unbreakable spirits and piles of chips for the breakeable rules of the past.

Sweet aftertaste with a pinch of grounded determination, folowing the movement of the sun in the summer.

The gray ranced taste of truth.
The little parts of joy that will always be sparkly and purple; smarald green and royal blue. Always linked with faith or hope. My choice. 

Mother and Daughter

I am the daughter of the SUN, the line in the horizon when flying to Taiwan. The grafitti mark on the bridge between space and time. 

I am the daughter of the Past. Where songs seem sweeter, and food eaten is always there one taste bud in the memory node. 

I am the mother of tomorrow. TODAY. 

second home

 Eyes troubled. unslept. unquiet.

Their light in the shadow. The clear fear thar might. And the fear that might not.

Second home of troubled thoughts. Of madness and dance; of gray hair in planes landing in green fields and shouting to the sky I am alive. I am here.

Second home of kindness.

And of some kind of friendship and of light in the shadow of my soul.

burning soul

 Bare foot dancing in the snow. 

the last parts of my soul burning and coughing bits and pieces of hope. 

My feet dancing in the snow in the rithm of my oldest dreams. A heart, a yellow hill and my burning soul, covered with snow.