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'' Oliveira liked making love with Maga because nothing could be more important to her and at the same time, in a way difficult to understand, an… Read More
'' Oliveira liked making love with Maga because nothing could be more important to her and at the same time, in a way difficult to understand, and below was his pleasure, was reached at a time and therefore adhered desperate and prolonged, it was like a wake up and know his real name, and then lay in a twilight always a little afraid Oliveira charmed perfections, but Maga really suffered when he returned to his memories and all that needed darkly thought and could not think, then had to kiss her deeply, encourage her to new games, and the other, reconciled, grew under him and snatched it, it was like a beast then frantic, lost eyes and hands twisted inward mythical and atrocious as a statue rolling down a mountain, starting with one time, between hiccups and a lasting endlessly whining hum. One night she sank her teeth, bit his shoulder to draw blood because he let go of hand, a little lost now, and there was a pact confusing wordless Oliveira Maga felt as if the wait for the death, something she I was not awake her, a dark shape annihilation demanding, slow backs slash to break the star of the night and returned the space to questions, and fears. '' Rayuela, J.Cortázar Read Less
Published:
Oil on canvas, diptych