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Aragones
I am the spirit of the water that moves the rivers of that heart. http://poesiadearagones.blogspot.com/ @AlavaAragones on Twitter
4 Posts • 4 Followers • 5 Following
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Cover image for post Wounds to the Wind, by Aragones
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Aragones in LGBT
48 reads

Wounds to the Wind

Bastard they are called me,

and they have forcefully punished me;

very hurt, desolate, all broken

I have been buried under his feet.

Narrow Anima , heart of dry almond,

the sky has turned over for no reason;

darkness of icicles under the field,

I want revenge with tender words.

Push my body already worthless,

when there is no longer the sigh of any mention;

baptize it into pure fertilizer, engulf my element and upkeep my origin,

make fun without trouble who your fruit dares to trample.

Pact coming to its course, coppery and green,

the rhizome invigorates, realizes plot to spare and scatter; my ends widen become hardened, the tissue is broken telling my story;

lipid, protid and starch sprouts from the nucleus.

Chunky trunk, jungle skein of recent fruit, my wounds the wind were exposed; fresh annex that I exhibit intuition,

to grow is to live and live is to suffer; without any of them we can exist.

Love breaks the substance and with it we practice to rest under water,

to surrow without a band, raze fortresses of sábula and vice versa;

with him we only learn to annihilate, to kill the feeling, the same one that I buried and to a soul I entrusted my skin and the cycle of life made me decipher.

Chimera of igneous coal, to these barbarian beings, I, to their offspring, give chewing;

I also give them shelter,

to sprout a source of experience, and that fruits on their heads may fall and wisdom can enter into them.

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Cover image for post Fire Nights, by Aragones
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Aragones in LGBT
115 reads

Fire Nights

Waiting for the grace of the blood moon to be announced, that its light apparel me with her leather;

Meanwhile, I'm in shame in guard as the sun drowns in the elbow of tangerine sea.

It's time to call them,

wake me up from the coma when they sing for me,

there are no chains that bind them,

sing for these bodies that were discovered face to face;

Those bodies that are called, over and over again, again, again...

Write my name on the sand and blow,

let the particles mumble in the wind until reach the city,

tell me, where he is thinking of me;

what beautiful they’re with their spectacular shine,

boys fall in love with their blink,

they get excited to watch them pass because only on fire nights allow them to dance.

Dancing and singing without stopping,

get drunk to that old sea,

let his mystery be hear, that with his voice I can adorn me.

Listen my love, I dream you and I live you because I still love you;

I’m the breath of the kisses that you give him,

I’m the rain that you pour out when I’m not, I’m the soul that reincarnates in your rituals of love;

but to my regret today I live in the ruins of your goodbye,

that goodbye that I turned into my palace where I keep dreaming of you on fire nights, that is my greatest sin.

Muses don’t stop singing and undress before the morning,

I’m still here before the insult of truth confesses;

my love for you doesn’t die even if it is a scam, it’s not my fault it’s my heart that is still broken and doesn’t stop lying to me that you are still here, here.

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Cover image for post Wet in Duel, by Aragones
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Aragones in LGBT
83 reads

Wet in Duel

You restore action in my odes

making adjectives emotions;

feeling of sweet boil you slide,

when you take refuge in my secular.

I hope that moment for both of us,

one that combines one here;

moment where the bellow of the echo

triggers his panting.

That instant where the memory

shipwrecked in desire;

energetic moment no less than eternal,

face to face, wet in duel.

High, interwoven

imitating the modest rhythm of fruition;

I shake you thick, flat and infallible,

in the background, the music falters in suspense.

Submerged out to sea the waves break in fire;

burned by the vehemence of Ayabaoñi,

my voice is drowned while you ride my neck;

Fingers between damp hair announce the moment of your arrival.

You approach slowly, time stands still

you surround tightly compressing you

to your soul, mind and being;

without limit I always live you deep, suddenly lucid.

Harmony lengthens perplexed,

admiring the edge of dawn,

and I always rescue words,

creating, to brew coffee and dedicate my mornings.

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Cover image for post Submerged, by Aragones
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Aragones in Poetry & Free Verse
20 reads

Submerged

Submerged

I can glide, I can find that only in your

radius I could be;

you're my effulgence, my true love,

come to me,

repose in me for life if you want it like that,

come to me, beloved.

Come here love,

make me a placid resonance;

come here sweetie,

let's make our love persuasive, come love

to play with my tenderness, come as you like,

but come with me, love. 

I give you my perspective,

my stamina, my pelt,

it's my shield when the world says no;

for you my pledge,

all I have what I'm, only for you

my true love.

Come closer next to me, squeeze me tight,

lose control, make love to me,

only yours my love;

come smooth make me feel, come gentle

so you can submerge in me, enjoy me,

come as you want, but come with me love.

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