Rubber Tech Deck Thing

The legal

it be?
you left and you took my hands?

She was a beautiful black woman, shiny and wavy. She was sitting at the table, along with the other two: a girl very white, opaque and no curves, but very sweet. And a man, silent, secret, soft black dress with a long strap bag at his side, leaning against the dark parquet. The three were absorbed in their work, possibly a legal issue, those who have lawyers who sit at the tables to rack your brains to find a return to the exception in Article such paragraph which, of Law No. X.

Suddenly the black angry about something and got fat, like a bloated fish. It became a ball of anger and cursing, got up and left the other two.

The girl sweetness and smooth white opacity looked at me with innocent eyes and left.

I lay down and asked the man secret, just as he was lifting the strap of his briefcase to leave, with my hand signal to come over and rested on me. I looked at his mouth and kissed him deeply, as if it were not able to stop that kiss, as if to make love. I do not remember what happened.

I was alone. I went to the refrigerator. The door was loose, and out a thread of light that drew a yellow triangle in the dark parquet. Detachment carefully packing tape that was holding the wrong door and I saw many delicacies of colors and intoxicating scents. I decided on a thread coated with powdered sugar.

I went to bed in the dark, for some reason had a bed for her there. At the head saw the symbol of his anger, his clothes perfectly ordered on the pillow. A white blouse with straight sleeves, a black silk vest, small, as in the middle of the shirt neatly pressed, or when the women prepare their clothes to go for a walk-a huge tablet medication and decorated like a child a cake, a black pill on the white tablet. It was like a chessboard, or checkers, but done with clothes and pills.

The next morning the girl blanquita was sitting at the table, happy, bright and wavy, her eyes smiled at me, man had kissed her secret. Like me.

Popcorn Bowls At Jcpenney

Sofia, trained to lose. My flower Isolated

Sophia was walking around on their tracks, depressions warm white down, marks where his gaze fell asleep.

That night I could not find his character. And not enough laps and markings, there was no track to reach the exit of the labyrinth. In which she, of course, had gone alone. Because she decided . No matter what Andonaegui thought, she was able to decide. But would not. That's what happened. She had decided she did not want decidir.Era easier to follow in the taciturnity of bare feet and red toenails. Sofia, the writer, the decider, was in the heat absorption of his skin against hers. That contact had ever enjoyed and learned to lose. Because he had been taught to blows and finally learned to lose. Then he spent to lose.

She was a very intelligent woman, who wove and unraveled, I learned and practiced, and almost always lost. A Sofia lacked just learning to retrieve. If only hot within a depression lying on the white carpet.

Dancing Raisins Science Project Hypothesis

was like a woman

-unreachable-

my flower Isolated.

I wanted to give the joy

of

freesias and ferns

And in the middle of the commotion

left her sleek and straight.

Morning

and slept

party I went to visit

and found her lifeless.

I looked and saw that at its height

carrying a treasure

bubble

own could not, it Isolated

share.

then very carefully took

scissors and started height

the rest.

The party returned to

night

perfumes and colors.

Isolated in the middle

silent

and watched day after day

parties

sleeping nights

and waking.

So time went

the commotion dies down

the bright colors no longer

water seeping

and there was one,

in my flower vase, Isolated.

Frozen Margarita In A Bucket

RIGHT SIDE

The pain was dry, heavy, like a falling-round hole-in a dream.
Waiting / NZA of calm, drowsiness, peaceful and soothing silence is welcome. Walk, investigates and crosses his eyes with six eyes. Conversa and evaluation. Remove load and reaches conclusions. And decide. But he prefers to wait, look more even, determine / be.
"There are clothes to prove yet," and turns his eye to the voices, a woman and two children.
"We have breakfast. Invoices and cafe con leche" It's half past four, mom and daughter can not sleep.
Waiting / NZA follows closely to the voices. And still is / was.
Walk the patio, fresh with new white flowers. The young shadow of a dreamlike vine is both talking and remembering old times. Old times and new white flowers.
"No more poetry?", A question is framed in a graying mustache parentheses.
"No more time," said forward / NZA.

And sleep. The hole is heavy.
pain, dry.