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In this part of the story I am the one who dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood.

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Blood Die Fire I Love You Love Story

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Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly.
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It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.
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The night is shattered, and the blue stars shiver in the distance.
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Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
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Love! Love until the night collapses!
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We are dust and to dust return. In the end we’re neither air, nor fire, nor water, just dirt, neither more nor less, just dirt, and maybe some yellow flowers.
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In the house of poetry nothing endures that is not written with blood to be heard with blood.
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I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers.
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By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two together in their sleep will defeat the darkness.
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Poetry arrived in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don’t know how or when.
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Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.
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A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn’t play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.
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Someday, somewhere – anywhere, unfailingly, you’ll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.
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Love is a clash of lightnings
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