Saturday, September 06, 2008

A heart asks pleasure first

The heart asks pleasure first,
And then, excuse from pain;
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering,

And then, to go to sleep;
And then, if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor,
The liberty to die

-Emily Dickinson

I love you and will never forget mi preciosa, amor, alma, corazon, todo.