#kmdavenus

[miosrastros]

May you not be mine forever

Keep in mind you have a house

Deeply guarded by the echo of your laugh

Here in this heart made of quartz

miosrastros

[miosrastros]

Eres luz de verano en una tarde de otoño con una sonrisa de primavera y la serenidad del invierno

miosrastros

[miosrastros]

You will drive me insane  We got that point clear Here comes the oh, so dreaded Why you turn your head? Why we keep stealing kisses? Why we act like we’re fine? They say; everybody said… A drunk never lies You emphasizes in how it’s said that you never lie Meanwhile I lie to myself in hopes to rest peacefully You don’t like being bossed around Then again your actions are stronger that your ego And yes, I’m bossing around And yes, I don’t believe a word you say I keep asking myself how can I make you believe? Anxiety is talking and it crawls when you don’t answer Why you turn your head? How do you dismantle my courage? This poem doesn’t have a pattern Has in common with you That it stressed me out not knowing what did I do wrong That could be deep, but it’s hiding the plot

“It’s a mess” (2017) miosrastros

[miosrastros]

We both know the secrets that you keep Deep guarded between the moans in our bed sheets Moans worth being envied, but they are forced to cheat The sun goes down, so the blood in the veins The unwavering walls built over time and pain And kisses below until there are complains Those secrets are now a Public Service Announcement Thanks to all of these nights and still counting More than one, it sure keeps the jealousy pounding We both know the silly lies you tell yourself To try to keep the peace and distance oneself Could be forsaken, but I still know you quite well We are the secrets never told We are, but don’t tell.

“Secrets”, 2017

miosrastros

[miosrastros]

A lovely broken portrait Scared girl and golden hour Feelings are hidden treasures

Broken Portrait, 2017 miosrastros

[miosrastros]

ILY

You were so lost between Duchamp and Picasso that you forgot about me. I got close and kissed the back of your neck. – Sweet spot. I know, love –

“Did you saw Duchamp’s urinal?”

“No.” I blindly answered

“Did you…”

“No”.  

“Then we are wasting time”. You answered frustrated

“No we are not”. “But you are not enjoying…”

“There’s not another work of art I’d rather enjoy but you”. I simply said. No punctuation mark, deep intention or emphasis.

Then and there under white lights and an artsy crowd I internalized that I was helplessly falling in-love with you.

You looked at me the way you always do when you are troubled. I could have backed down, but there wasn’t an ounce of me willing to do it. No words were spoken after that. Just a hold of hands and hour and a half surrounded by oil and canvas trying to imitate you.  

There’s a million ways to say those three words and this is just the first one.

[miosrastros]

"Me quisieron, me desearon Hubo promesas demás Que con el tiempo se olvidaron" Aquí yace el amor. ( - ), 2017

miosrastros

[miosrastros]

No sé que es el amor, pero supongo que tiene que ser algo similar a la libertad. Algo así como difícil, pero que siempre valga la pena.

miosrastros