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YOUR BOOK PREFERRED

Él… me hace sentir como su libro preferido…
Después de leerme ávidamente
begs me to give to his vast library
love story
I'm leaving the door
and asks me to smile.
Rescue entertains my verses and my back,
game in the final chapter,
but before ...
me greedy for more stanzas browsing silent
corners and touch my tanned,
pushes my leaves with your fingers
soaked in seconds before his mouth.
He reads me like nobody else ... ...
With his hands removed my sanity
as your body skin quenches my thirst for sleep,
wrapping his arms tremble on my shoulders
and lips whisper love to cover.
Rises, reverses, he smiles, turns
and restart reading.


Marisali

What To Wear On A Date Ice Skating

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Today let them ...

I allow rumble of thunder, the falling water and wet, the clouds become cloudy, the wind moving my air free to enjoy my space ... Soon the sun will leave no trace ...

Heaven.

MarisaLy

Five Month Old Baby Dry Cough

MEETING OF CONSORTIUM.

MI URGENT WAKE, MY FEET AND RACY
HANDS ,
EXPEDITE MY NOSE And
eyes behind these glasses DILIGENT. THE
STARS.
HARTA WIND MY SKIN AND MY AGILE PAPILLAE
buds.
READY MY EARS, BACK AND BACKPACK.
THE MOON.
MY HAIR, LIGHT AND ITS NAIL POLISH.
my tolerance. MI MOTO. THE SUN.
MY COMMITMENT TO LIFE.
MY PERFUME!
CONSORTIUM MEETING.
INTU WE SPRING.



MarisaLy

Los Hombres De Paco Online Free

AND THE FINAL NIGHT ... Recitative

Outside, screaming silently turning

night yawns and covers the entire sky,

hurry, unscented roses

or bodies who loved pink.

These bodies exist in the minds

one night lover without love,

born in the summer nights

and never rub their hands ...

And at the end of that night of procrastination

perhaps we die

because nobody loves us ...

perhaps we die is what we

knowing that at any time

be time to love ...

© MarisaLy

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Hemachromatosis And Bleeding Eye

LOVE IN LATE AUGUST

shines in my simple journey through life

innate grace to feel the greatness of the day ;

of giving in lyrics experiences

and spread brazen and owned prose.

I can make you hear

the amorphous sounds of the alphabet,

rising quieter verse

reliving it in sonnets to your liking.

That is love, because that force

growing your existence gives me so much.

My wait is rewarded with your laughter

born to find in my occurrence

peace that you are looking

discovering shy

in my embrace.

What I leave in my poems

are verses and actual heartbeats

that strip so Sorry.

lyrics I'll melt drawing.

you describe fugitive, escaped while perennial

in light portrait with vivid words.

I give my poetry that emphasizes

tenderness your host,

is silent cries of my rhymes ;

claiming that I love you every day ...

while searching the keys of waiting.

Poet will be, as long as there

my prose and die in your game.

© 2006 MarisaLy

der. reserved

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Afternoon sun peeking out humbly intelligent

bones and warms my icy indifference;

summer they expect stiff

surviving the winter executioner that cling to me grief.

inert Pause my day, as my eyes slowly

look inside and open my look without seeing,

wonder that landscape tour without cold

and my ears hear what I write ...

you with me and my memories, my day before yesterday,

tonite and in two days.

're my poetry and I intend in my verses

in the evenings, mornings, and because not

in August afternoons unfair.

Hands soft light that mirror

any role in what I think.

Any month is good for love.

MarisaLy rights reserved 15/08/1906

Is Benzocaine As Strong As Novocaine

Writings cold ...

Glitter Ten inches of lace petticoat and nostalgia anxious.
A Cup memories and embedded memories lips silent.
icy fingers that sing my poems to you, without being read.




© MarisaLy

Average Income Periodontist Canada

not know I'm sad ...

Nobody believes in my sadness ...

because the story,

because they would find ... the

because I have everything ...

but I have nothing ...

Absent and without you

in all areas of my day,

empty

no one perceives it,

my loneliness bottled

in much autonomy,

nor my tears extreme

sovereign behind a smile.

Tremendously deserted.

With my lost hobbies.

drowning With my inconsolable.

sleeping with my dreams.

© MarisaLy

3 Days Before Period Is Due

If tomorrow I die ...

And every moment

fresh shake the

thought

threading one hundred times
that we had owners.

And those dreams, broken, emollients

that my teeth squeaked
emotion taciturn,

lively march of my soul and my ashes

running very fast
evading death

and looking for home ...

And out of nowhere,
a breeze rises

calque that naive laughter

dust and scatter my bones forgetful

in that distant sea,
inaccessible and only ...

that I shall not verified any time.

Epitaph nameless portrait ...

"Here lies close your everlasting lover"

empty No roses at the feet of those waters

traveling my cool.

am the owner of no more than the space

where today paraphrasing.

There will.

terminate Take my sorrow.

MarisaLy

rights reserved

06.03.2006