ZOE VENUS

Los días siguen sin glorias Los días mueren persitendo la continuidad de lo mismo avanzando el tiempo es tan libre tan corto, tan nada Los días se van sin nada con los ojos clavados en lo absurdo viendo, sin pensar perdiendo de cualquier dinamismo.. El mundo continúa andando con celebraciones capitalismo y esclavitud el nobel y los oscares hambre y guerra y yo continúo recordando, observando,asustada estática cobarde, patética desde mi ventana. Desde mi nada el voyeurismo la prostitución de la vida de la pereza de los triunfos insaciables la paz, las flores la met gala, el glamour pasan con sus secretos y yo aquí sigo sn  poder peinarme. La gente vive y se muere crea y destruye se nutre  y envenenada se autosabotea y yo solo sigo sin saber trasladarme Los enfermos crecen. las reservas para la continuidad lo necesario para vivir no existe se extingue Se agota y mueren y yo estoy aquí llorando

His legs turned left and mine right, walking towards the warmth of my house, his coordinates I knew no longer. Before that his legs turned east before him. I said goodbye at the door; I climbed the stairs to my room, to clean traces of everything that exploded that day. Sorry to say, but our explosion did not end in a mere sexual act. I can begin by telling you how it all began because I started from the end, or an intermediate, depriving myself of advancing. The crystals covered his eyes and his beard did not cover his smile. The green made him speak and the coat did not take away his cold. His hand brushed against me, and I do not mean just my hand— brushed against my cold, my skin, my night, even against my will. I had a stupid look, but did not pay attention, even avoided him. Just trying to concentrate on cigarettes and white clouds of smoke that we formed. I preferred to see his breath or mine, or both, taking a single shape or watching the stars that fell, to see his face, and

Sus piernas giraban a la izquierda y las mías a la derecha, camine hacia el calor de mi casa de sus coordenadas no supe más. Antes de eso sus piernas giraron antes al este, le despedí en la puerta, subí las escaleras hacia mi habitación para limpiar los rastros de todo lo que explotó aquel dia. Lamento decirlo pero nuestra explosión  no terminó en un mero acto sexual. Puedo comenzar por contarles cómo comenzó todo, ya que comencé por el final o un intermedio privandome  de avanzar. Los cristales le cubrían los ojos y su barba no cubría su sonrisa. El verde le hacía hablar y su abrigo no le quitaba el frio. Su mano rozaba en contra mia y no me refiero solo a mi mano, rozaba contra mi frio, mi piel, mi noche, incluso contra mi voluntad. Tenía una mirada muy tonta, pero no le prestaba atención incluso evitaba verlo. Intentaba solo concentrarme en los cigarrillos y las nubes blancas de humo que formábamos. Prefería ver  su aliento o el mío o el de ambos tomando una sola forma o ver l

Sometimes I dream that you die. I lie, I just did it the other night, after you wanted to kill yourself. I would like to tell you that when I found out: I wanted to fill myself with tears, And scream in the mode of a TV novella performance. but no, it was not like that, the truth is that I was sitting thinking about the road trip we never made, the oils that were left pending, in life where we could not find each other anymore. I wanted to die but instead I only woke up for seconds, soon returning to sleep. Recovering knowledge was my way of escaping, of committing suicide from a dream. I went back to sleep and I do not know what happened but, when I woke up, I wanted you to be with me, drunk or with a hangover, and a little bottle of alcohol, which we could mix into our coffees, walk, cry and laugh at the stupidity of the previous night. Digest breakfast first, then dream. The internet now is the scene full of flashbacks, sad songs, and people walking out of their houses walkin