De promesas

Y es que todo ayer comenzó como el mañana de un hoy...

Technicolor sleep

Yes, I dream my dreams in color. I dream of the drawings that stain your canvas. I dream of their colors swirling around my body. Whirlpool of shade and shadow, whirlpool of sulphide seas.

I dream of a hungry moon that bleeds in moonbeam yellow bathing my naked limbs. I dream of a dark blue ocean in which we both can drown. I dream of dark blood red boiling within muted green lines on our pale tan skin.

And I can't help but to long for the hopeful shatter of emerald that grins from your eyes, melting the slow honey in mine.