Gotta write tonight

I have to write tonight.
To have a miraculous person, a person without dimensions, without ends, without a stinging luster, even very yellow.
I dream about it every day.
It was those whose eyes remain tears of laughter so that I laugh.

And who never stops talking about silly things, and makes me absolutely absurd jokes. I know I may write about love in a strange way, but the strangeness with which I lead myself has made the edge of the abyss a place to fly from.

For someone to be like a verse of beauty whose hymns do not end, it is a happy mirage, but rather living with an illusion as light as the wind loaded with chrysanthemums and almond blossoms.
I loved tulips and chrysanthemums very much, I did not like roses very much because I used to see them on all occasions, I loved basil because it is not presented as a bouquet of roses, but rather you take care of it as one of your children.
Maybe it was hiccups.
or loza.