Death to Cupid. Valentine’s Day
It has been months since I have heard from you, but you reappear at your leisure in my mind, in heart and in the memories of my bed. It appeared to be nothing important, but I miss your hands, your clear eyes, and your smile with your fruity, Dragoblanco wine scented lips.
The aromas on the 14th February arrive here and irritate me… Foolish God, who contracts the blood sucking muscle that gives life to this body!
Death to the winged creature that imprints madness in my head and makes me blind to my actions. I challenge you fate. You and me, to slow and discreet death. I wait for you behind the ruins of my body, lurking in the fight. I swear there will be blood and lightning and sparks to announce your end.
How dare you drive the dagger into us with laziness and fury? You are so cruel that
you water with dishonesty the seed that gives us love and carelessly destroy everything we have worked towards.
Death to Cupid for being a traitor, deceitful and cruel.
I was happy when I did not think about tomorrow. When the now was enough to
conquer my mortal fee. To think that you can miss me, kill my peace and
shoot my fears.
I hate you for giving me the irrational love, for making me part of two,
for filling my head with so many stories of indefatigable tenderness, unspeakable kisses and fears of loneliness…
Die Cupid and release me from this love that oppresses the breast of this simple
mortal. You suffocate me, you wrap me between complexes and you make me
diminutive and helpless.
Death to the pampered God of bow in hand and mean arrow.
Death to the imposter.
Death to the thief of thieving sheets.
Death to whom forces me to live prey to the memory of your kisses.
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