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Who am I?


A girl that has no name,

which hides her tears before the darkness of the sea; 

dusty books, lonely places

or a chair without repair    


The girl who didn’t know what to answer,

that grew up within and put beauty to suffering;

elusive, distant,

a perfume in desolation


An empty body that will never be mine;

the indecipherable colors of freedom,

a hand-sc...

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My poetry is ...


Joy, rebellion, forgiveness

life, wisdom, love


Destined winged music that cooed my heart

The cry that fertilized the earth when the sun dawned

Hope, disappointment,

the pain that hurt me in some corner


The line of life, and also the betrayal where one day I’d wake

listening to prayers that my death will announce


Poor dreams of mine...


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Not yet...


I didn’t realize when we wore out the new,

the coveted interest for life, the sap in your overdue stories


I never knew when the candor became gloomy knowing your near

and deserted my spirits before your inexplicable indifference,

or when your time was not my time,

and your space became anonymous,

so much that I no longer saw it


I justified your abse...

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How did it come to be, who allowed it?



How was hope gagged by the morbidity of this false democracy?

How did it come to be?


How is it that petroleum was changed for weapons?

How did it come to be, who allowed it?


It is inevitable to react.


There is in my soul a line that lies between the darkness and pain, poking me, and this condition pushes me to the limit in where I bleed and I fa...

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It is my silence!



Crowned with thorns a fatal pain strikes me

stirring my feelings of what one day I thought imperishable


My muse cries with me, demanding to know the reason

why your love was no more than cracked nails of bitterness,

my feelings pouring in the harshness of what I’m still living

It seems that you shall persistently drive my heart into darkness 


It is my silence ...

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Do not ask me who I am...



Do not ask me who I am

I can be the living essence of a soft prayer

or a gloomy room of a prose in pain


I can be the cup of spilled soft caress on your skin,

or the calm, a storm or anger


Do not ask me who I am...

I can be the very face of God,

the words of sounding in a heart 

or maybe the rushing fantasy that often dies at daybreak



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My alter ego...


The naive girl, cautious and fierce

The one with feline eyes

The one with shadowy corners

The one that battles day to day perceiving the voice of the Messiah

The one that still dreams of parental love that borders on idolatry

The jubilant light of day 

The one that writes fantasies in the orphanhood of a sonnet

turning out nostalgic fondness hoping that they tr...

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I request ...




Tie me to every beat of your heart

Make my hours your hours,

my desires your attention, a pretext,

a reason to think that we will have a beautiful crowning


I request the sea, the earth itself, the sun,

the fusion of our bodies,

the warmth of your kisses


I request... a fragment of tenderness to this love



©Noris Roberts

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Chained orgasms are biting my lips



A prisoner in your skin ...

discreetly the night slips between my sheets, in the verses of dawn,

sketching ecstatically the loud kiss that grows in my body,

there where the brilliance becomes eternal

and consciousness of myself in your hands,

I do not know if this is an adventure or a creation of my madness.


Naked ...

I pour out shamelessly the pleasures of the ...

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From always ...


Nothing happens, I have no answers

Only the great sadness seems to assist me

Faced with despair, people are losing their identity

The word violence plays its language

Everything is corrupted

Everything looks bad, aging

In the thunder of the night I discover that my brother is my enemy

The only thing real is this sad reality


©Noris Roberts


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