Who loves you, will close all the roads and only left open which leads to every whim of yours, means that there is treasure to buy your single and unexpected embrace any Sunday bright, innocent tenderness of your head silently on my shoulder or your joy radiating scandal scattered around the city.
Who loves you, you become, full of pride, in the one recurring topic of conversation, challenging indifference, reprobate looks and gestures of disgust. You will always be there, present, signaling pathways, breaking schemes, upsetting truths, becoming divine life in the abyss, marking and demonstrating the invaluable price of a Te Quiero.
Who loves you, discover life in the curve of your breasts. Learn again what it means to live and not remember anything that happened before the pounding beat your bare chest, the deep scent of the sweat of love, the miraculous multiplication of the stars or look in your heart hopelessly broken glass that looks calm.
Who loves you, stroll proudly with your smile award any street of joy, take shortcuts that lead to your eternity, and look forward for your embrace finally understand the mysterious meaning of darkness and secrecy.
Who loves you, feel the immeasurable anguish of just one minute of your absence and the infinite pleasure of the possibility of your closeness.
Who loves you, wait a minute each to fill entire six hours, solitude as you stroll through the city, while defoliated the petals of a hidden tears, tells passersby raindrops falling leaves vague or irrelevant. There, in a secret corner of the heart, it is remarkable that a hope is bleeding uncontrollably.
Who loves you, tireless travel thousand miles just to see your beautiful smile and endless five minutes. Still, you will feel satisfied and resigned deposited sweat and tired of the way in every pocket of oblivion.
That by which all this?
simply because I love you.
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