Today I’m confused. I’m like those days that neither rain nor sun; and this feeling is alike me a bit strange and I can’t find the grammatical meaning to the words that I make a reality on this white sheets that I begin to get them drunk with crimson ink.
My heart just ignore syntax, it’s crazy and doesn’t stop arising from the morphemes of this piece of paper; its blood splash me and bling me of its ideas from the bottom of the barrel. My eyes don’t let me see the direct object who I’m writting.
And although I understand that it’s difficult to walk in a furtive way through the conjunctions that join my soul to your body, today and only one day like this I skip the orthographic rules that govern me to this world.
But this heart lack the verbs that conjugate to narrate you in verses, that they kiss you soul in the dawn. And in the absence of adjectives that describe you in this sentence, pretend a good face when I see you pass on the photos that you put in sentences at an unearthly hour and fill my bed of spelling errors.