LEGENDS FACE * *
by Chus Muñoz María Cebrián
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morning mist, the smell of bile acid and copper, was being disseminated from the neighborhood Curto Serratillas up in a dark green tongue of suspicion, rumor uncertain about the truth of the event. Meanwhile, the fleeting trains in tunnels and viaducts at dawn, fluttered with fear. It was true that, apparently, his eyes were like Beelzebub. Or that their thighs were passionate about snakes that imprisoned men. Yes it is true that his red handkerchief had come from central Europe to sweet precious treasure in the cold north winds. But the north wind, that or lazy to stay up late or up early, excited by striking pale with cold gusts, the blue face of the young maiden. It was impossible to close his eyes. Open, like burning coals, powerful rays emitted from the surface watertight. Like crazy, which has become sane for a moment, I tried to bury his face deep into the abyss of waters. I threw sticks and stones left on the banks screaming around him. Discovered that his look was a look of life and, however, was fixed and permanent. Why are your lips still, still smiling? Why the smile remained cynical and sensual? I waited all night to deny and the full moon, silver fell to the water reflections turned on in black and red with sadness and grief. It was no coincidence the cock crowing accuser, or the cold wind of dawn throwing autumn leaves on the body to make its presence more accurate and inhumane. Nearby sensed the lights of the town, a world definitely lost her. We heard nothing of his secrets or the reasons why they came to this hidden area. But, I can attest, I know that her voluptuous body walked tion obscenely between mouths dirty and vulgar. And hedientas laughter, bathed in cheap liquor from their customers, I produced an uncontrollable rage. I spoke at the night alone with my dreams. Council doubts thoughts riskier. Me or anyone. With the finality of the desperate tackle, labor camps in the dark night, to the bathing pond full moon nights. Her naked body shone with pearl transparencies while his eyes, emitting beams of red fire and blue butterflies. My hands on her waist first, then her neck, stroked with a stubbornness that presaged the horror that has already guessed. He offered the least resistance and was wicker and rush in my hands. For a moment I thought I felt my mouth filled kiss that already, dirty kisses. Hide your smile through the pain of my lips. I shuffled for a moment the possibility of kidnapping. I dreamed about tropical paradise and idyllic islands. Meanwhile, his hands clasped her throat without the slightest sound issue. I felt, ultimately, my hands digging into his vertebrae without the silence was torn by complaint. "Human or evil creature? Plummeted, as if to die, on the water. Then it was total silence, guilt and song of the owl in the pine forest. My shadow follows me in the sun and the night where you go. My bad shadow! ... I cross the fertile Regatillo laying breeds tight and pour in it the seeds of oblivion. In the autumn night is red handkerchiefs power lines. The swallows and swifts that spanned the summer, I say prosecutors. It was a perfect crime. No one claimed his body, even those who so wished. I only claim and vindicated when every day I go in the water and tracking the corners and dark backgrounds like a pig to expect the impossible. His death is mine and mine alone. His lips are sealed into the oblivion of the people alive in my mind twisted and cruel. Finally ..., only mine! I say, always, in his short flight Cardelines between two thorns. The prosecutor will tell the silence of cowards who knew silent as brave. Tell their absence, the headstones in the cemetery: "Here lies, lack of life. "
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