(Tango)
Your secrecy, exasperates me,
guesses of all my days.
Lives with improvisation in "quotes"
and your exalted excess.
Are "variables" infinite
you stamped on my providence.
Play every day to "Lottery"
with a ticket too "fake" ...
Sometimes I think "adivinarte", I admit ...
And after a short time, I know I'm wrong.
My hopes with decorum "broom", the collection,
So I spread chaotically.
Within a very playful scrub,
my lamp hides empty.
I go in search of you, in the dark ...
Without understanding, what you get ...
Someone, I will reveal at last ...
The suffering "oracle" that I could not notice.
I'm confused as a "bishop"
to which they erased their "diagonals".
My amazement always grows in abundance,
with their tireless "X" ... With his "equations".
I impose resolve them day after day,
but always missing the last.
Deciphering a woman, it is impossible,
a perfidious "maze" with no exits.
When you believe, know it well,
changes, once the "barcode".
You can not keep the revered "Arithmetic"
crowded with countless "unknowns" ...
When I have it right "the clear" ...
I have to restart "da capo" ...
But that would not be so laborious ...
If it were not for your arbitrary ... extreme ...
Daniel H Guasti
pisulinoal@yahoo.com.ar
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