Hurt to move … (very old poetry I)

Hurt to move

from the shadows to the glitter-spring.

Behind the door a secret :

sin born in alchemy wind.


(original : spanish)

De sombras
al brillo-primavera duele moverse.
Detras de la puerta un secreto :
en aire de alquimia nace el pecado.

(note : I found some very old poetry in my computer, things that I wrote lot of years ago, that’s one of them)

Nosferatu’s Eyes

“You have Nosferatu’s Eyes”

He said to me.

In an underground club

experimenting with sex

chemicals and


Some say sinners die young


I’m living too much

time of what I want or

what I need.

He asked me for a kiss

I said

“No, sorry,

I’m not a queer”

We take different ways

Never see him again.