RachelJackson

Rachel Jackson

My tactic is to watch you learn to love yourself as you are my tactic is to talk to you and listen to you build with words an indestructible bridge my tactic is to stay in your memory I don't know how or under what pretext but to stay in you my tactic is to be frank and know that you are frank and that we don't sell ourselves My strategy is instead deeper and simpler. My strategy is that one day, I don't know how or under what pretext, you'll finally need me..

Your eyes remind me of the black summer nights, moonless nights, shore to salty sea, and the sparkling stars of the black and low sky. Your eyes remind me of summer nights. And your brown flesh, the burnt wheat, and the fire sigh of the ripe fields.

Of your brown grace, of your gypsy dreaming, of your shadowy look I want to fill my glass. I will get drunk a night of black and low sky, to sing with you, shore to the salty sea, a song that leaves ashes on the lips. From your shadow look I want to fill my glass.

And if they told you that the sun will not rise this morning, would you believe them? If I told you my world is over, would you understand me? If I tell you I need you, it's because without you I'm suffering If I told you I don't love you, I'd be lying to you.

Two carnations in the water last for days and days, but my love for you will last a lifetime. The carnations ask for water and the prisoners for freedom and I ask that you love me to immortality. Two carnations in water cannot wither, two people who love each other cannot be forgotten..

When you look at me my eyes are keys, the wall has secrets, my fear words, poems. Only you make my memory a fascinated traveler, a ceaseless fire.

When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the plane takes off with the wind against, not in favor

She was shaving it, some pretty one, all rolled up to her belly button, legs wide open, and sitting in a wide, spacious chair. Looking at him she was very joyful, after she had been shaved very well, and being mocking, careless, she stuck her finger in the thing. And as he wagged his hips, the used bait responding, a certain taste gave him afterwards. But when he knew it was not true, he said, "Oh, dear! What am I doing?! That this is not the firewood».

It's not magic, but it's a trick, and the trick is to trust both of you in each other. I disagree. Trust is not earned. Yes, I do! You are eligible. True trust is given from the heart, not from thought, because thought sometimes betrays.

I offer you among the bunches, green gazelles and roses, my naive heart that to your goodness humbles; do not want to tear it your loving hands, your eyes rejoice my simple gift. In the shady garden my weary body morning auras covered with dew; as in the peace of a dream it slips beside you The fugitive instant that lust rest. When the divine storm is quiet in my bosom, I'll recline, playing with your thick loops, over your honey-breast my sleepy forehead, sounding to the rhythm of your last kisses.

To be placenta and irrigated with fetal desire Your first sip, trapped in your lungs: pools of molecular oxygen Pez that drips sweat, sweat that drips deformed beats erupting in your inexperienced lips Being in you when you weren't

Take off my eyelids and cheeks, kiss the corner is waiting for you: open the neck is raised to be approached; by your lips slowly runs my shoulders, uncovered and now that I open my eyes, look at me and we talk

Wake me like this, with my body crunching with my desires stirred with the promise of your return with the essence of our desires, with the hollow of your smile with your unmet grief, with the profusion of our agonies. Then I'll know how to savor the solitude of my hours, those that don't understand clocks, knowing that I keep inside me all your moist memories.

♪ Break my waist on the back of your saddle ♪ ♪ Break my back, clean kiss ♪ Fill me with you, fill every pore with the insistence of your tongue Turn loneliness to me, break it in your fingers, those that now occupy all my spaces Give me shelter from hunger in the hollow of your arms that I want to release myself, today, in them