Reyna Leyva

I want it on a bicycle,

at the top of the boulevard.


I want it with a motor,

even when I try to take away the silly grudge from me.

I want it while reading,

while the sun goes down.

My love for fits on any napkin, here in the park or while I wait anxiously on the sidewalk.

Right to be sad, p>

and a left dyslexic.

Cause and side effects.

I find myself flooded in my quagmires.

The illusion is heavy wood that when feeling the passage;

It falls unquestionably into the abyss.

Under my anxiety I would like to be another.

I do not pack any part,

with waters of any sentimental syndrome

I know that you are just as weak, that I am just as strong.


I have forgotten my thoughts.

The mosquito you remembered.

You will be able to knock on my door all the time,

open the window of a wrong Zeus.

p> My flame that moves in any vague company

I long for your eyes, reflections of wave and your farewell,

The most beautiful firewood in the bonfire.

p> I love you or master with the judgment of a two

geometric division of what never existed.

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