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lunes, 24 de septiembre de 2012



(An epistolary story)

Between my love and I  it have  to rise
three hundred ,yes,three hundred nights as walls,
and the ocean will be a magic between us.

There will be nothing,but rather memories.
Oh afternoons earned with the pain,,
nights hoping for to see you,
fields of my way, firmament
that I'm watching and losing ...
Definitive ,like a  marble,
your absence   will bemoan in other afternoons.
(Jorge Luis Borges-Argentine poet and writer-:Absence and Farewell)

(The first letter):THE MAN WITH NO TEARS


There is a sweet , untouchable charm in the rainy evening.The light trascends the surface of the glass,and the raindrops,falling like the complaint  of an invisible dark sky,hit on the innocent flowers,,now dry,rememebering vaguely that there was  a time of spring.

It is late autumn,however.I am staying here,standing here,besides the solitude of the park,hidden in the obscurity,watching,waiting,screaming by inside,all the cries that were muted have been changed in shame.

You…you are behind the crystals,perhaps  with your lover,in that warm quietude,so tepid,and soaked by the one million drops love has sparkled somewhere:like a  forbidden dew,bathing the souvenir of what could have been,and what was not.
You stay,perchance, under the severe glance of those black iron  eyes,cruel,so cruel as the mine…but blessed,institutionalized by the law.
What is the law?
I never knew.
The law is what impeded me to grow up aloof of insanity,and gave me the “blessing” of to be hurt,wounded,abused,destroyed?
That is what mankind uses to call”the law”?
If it is so,I am against it.I have chosen.And I have chosen because I knew,and I know,that some of us were born cursed by an unfathomable malediction,that is and will be always unceasing,and,perhaps, eternal.

Your lover,surely, kisses you,and the hypothetical kiss stabs me deeply in my chest,just in the middle of the old scared traces,making them more profound,and this new invisible bleeding wound aches like a hell.
The curtains are open.,and I can sight you.I can see you,imagining however   the nudity of your skinny elegant figure,.so fine and exquisitely conformed,lying down, with the aspect,with the features of a classical sculpture.

Keep me away,you,whom are named “ my ultimate,definitive pain”.I never could reach you not even  in a dream…because it would become a nightmare.So,I call you “my pain”,because it is so,and it must necessarily be so.
You and your lover,indeed.Talking,smiling,caressing,with no care about the rest of this world,a world that will end so soon for one like me.
I am.. a beggar.One whom stays at the desolated door ,waiting for his alms.
Alms for the poor…Alms for the unfortunate unwanted son whom has been  born from  the  terrible marriage between the disgrace and the horror..
I am the eternal stranger,the sempiternal foreigner in all the realms.
And you,blessed by beauty,by a cheerful mood,by one thousand…by one million talents.,will be the  adored prince in a distant ivory tower.
But…I am proud.Proud of my misfortune,proud of my multiple wounds,proud of my fierce decision.
It is so cold here,outside…so cold…so dark…A gloomy wind shakes the body of the lonely trees,that,as indefense corpses,incline their last leaves for to bow before my presence.
You can forebode something in the shadows,but I cannot get away from my own obscurity.
However,from my  gloomy grief that is more than endless,I can can be sure !!only of something:if God were able to help one like me,He would send an angel with your innocent features,the most beautiful ones that these eyes of mine(eyes that will be soon devoured by the grave)have ever seen.
Please,do not be afraid of to open this dark  envelope.
I want you knowing what I feel,even if I cannot reveal,for now,who I am,who I was,who I will be.

The reply:
Distinguished Sir:
I am not used to quick responses.However,I felt the necessity of to let very clear that I am not in the disposal of to accept any type of encounter between us.Please,understand this:because of the work I usually do(my job is  not what one could call”a simple common one”),I have become a bit paranoid in some of my daily attitudes.
I have no idea who you are,not even if you really know me in person,or perhaps you suffer of some kind of strange hallucination.
Do not be ashamed of this:I have suffered these symptoms myslef,due to the incidencies of my hard and compromising daily work
Understand,please,also,that I am only twenty eight  years old,and I have carried a burden upon my shoulders that perhaps nobody else could have done.
Yes,it is said I am a genius:but this makes me absolultely a solitary.
Yes,people use to say I am beautiful,handsome…but I dislike to be touched,caressed,embraced….
Notwithstanding,yes,I must say….I am in a relationship.A delicate matter,indeed,since my lover is also someone of a high elevated cathegory in the place where I work..
I could never thought of to have a furtive encounter with somebody else,despite how much my flesh could beg for a new relief..I usually never confess these things to anybody,but,in a certain way,you inspire me some sort of strange confidence,since you are a faceless presence….

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