Te pienso.

Te pienso. Los viernes te pienso. Te cuelas con el aire y me llenas los pulmones.
Te siento. Al ver tan solo tu nombre te siento. Te atraviesas en mi ombligo, me mueves.
Amanece y estas presente, te has vuelto sello de agua. Como agua no te puedo retener.
Mantengo mis ojos centrados en derrames de tinta, en voces pasajeras, en ambiciones vanas y en dolores absurdos. Ahí estás al fondo, vigilante, como humo, como cielo.
Pocas horas puedo observar el cielo, pocas horas mis ojos se apartan de la frivolidad de la existencia terrestre.  Esas horas me perteneces, esas horas me pertenezco, te tengo presente. Los viernes, los viernes te pienso.
Una burbuja, un aroma, una luna... tus regalos, efimeramente eternos. Los clavas a mi cuerpo.
Tus manos me hablan, me sacas los ojos. Te derramas en blancas invisibles fibras al tiempo que cual Sansón me cortas el cabello y yo, sonrío. Es viernes, te pienso.

I think of you.

I think of you. I think of you on fridays. You sneak in with the air to fill my lungs.
I feel you. Your written name makes me feel you. Going through my navel, you move me.
The sun rises, there you are, water mark you are. Like water I can´t hold you.
My eyes are focused on ink stains, fleeting voices, vain ambitions and ridiculous pains. There you are on the background, watching, like smoke, like the sky.
Only for a few hours I can look up at the sky, for a few hours my eyes look away from the frivolity of being alive. During those hours you belong to me, during those hours, I belong to myself, I have you in my mind. Fridays, I think of you on fridays.
A bubble, a scent, a moon... your gifts, fleetingly eternal. You pin them to my body.
Your hands talk to me, you pull out my eyes. You melt yourself in white invisible fibers while like Samson you cut off my hair and I, I smile. It´s friday I´m thinking of you.