It's the night | Lifescape Tribe's Night Photography Contest Round 12 [EN/ES]

19 comments

roswelborges4 months ago3 min read

It's not the second,
nor the month of April,
it's the night
where my wings hang
under the pretext of kissing you.
They've stolen February from me,
they've stolen my jukebox
and I'm writing to Macondo...
I didn't want to drink,
but Sabina and Cortázar arrived
to invite me to their party
with knives from five hundred nights
and hoarse owls.
These bastards
didn't stop me from thinking of you,
both of us disheveled,
laughing,
with the same pillow
and the forbidden embraces
that bring down the island.
They,
in their drunkenness
and letters without drinking
because of coughing fits.
I,
on the edge of night,
without cigars
or coffee,
with a pale shadow,
a sweaty heart
and black hands.
You,
you've gone
like Judas,
with his kisses.

Thank you very much for your visit!

Best regards @roswelborges

_{If you like my blog, I would love for you to join my}

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I invite you to visit the project

TheBbhProject
@bradleyarrow

No es el día dos,
ni el mes de abril,
es la noche
donde cuelgan mis alas
con el pretexto de besarte.
Me han robado febrero,
me han robado la vitrola
y escribo a Macondo...
No quería beber,
pero llegaron Sabina y Cortázar
para invitarme a su fiesta
con cuchillos de quinientas noches
y lechuzas roncas.
Estos cabrones
no impidieron te piense,
despeinados los dos,
riendo,
con la misma almohada
y los abrazos prohibidos
que derriban la isla.
Ellos,
en su borrachera
y letras sin beber
por los ataques de tos.
Yo,
al borde de la noche,
sin tabacos
ni café,
con la sombra pálida,
el corazón sudado
y las manos negras.
Tú,
te has ido
como Judas,
con sus besos.