ROUTE

I want you baby
when you're at the distance of my kiss,
a kiss.

I love you baby,
when I am blue,
blew into the window.

I'm loving you:
blue smile,
blue wind blow,
blues is in my sky.

Baby, I can see you at the distance,
that place where we collide in statement
into the form of a blue figure,
that I know, but haven’t kiss;
that you know, but haven’t miss.

Baby, you are in the sacred love
of that mist, that became in no measure.
In that smell, that guides this story
into the loop of the dark pleasure.

Pablo Guillén, Barcelona, septiembre de 2011