Wednesday, March 7, 2007

Je suis sur mes genoux pour vous

Bloody LIME.
Where THE fuck are YOU?
I SEARCH for POLLY.
Where are you JEAN)
I'M on MY knees and i´m taller than a tree.


I DON´T see LIGHT LIME here.
WHERE´s the SPERM?
I can´t feel YOUR CUNT screaming for ME.
Give me the LIME tree.
Jean are you OK?
POLLY where the Fuck are YOU?
CAN´T you see MY eyes?
Towards myself I WONDER :

THE TREE is TALLER than me.




(Text: Manuel Espirito Santo)

(Image: Rodrigo de Oliveira)

Ugly betrayal: As a blind bull i feel betrayed.





I can´t see a FUTURE for ME.

Where´s the LIME; mom?!

I can´t answerYOU that. YOU must search for IT.

POLLYLIGHT I want to FUCK you !

JEAN: Do you feel my BOOBS ?!

- What´s GOING on ?!

So called Lime; scream like a raged Bull on a ROOM.

The search isn´t an ENDLESS one;

- Where´s the FABRIC of DREAMS?
Search the LIME; cry, WHISPER and SIGH for me.

POLLY JEAN LIGHT LIME.

I want YOU to CRAWL for me beg wisdom on a CUP of tea.

- Give me a CELL phone; please.

- I want to CARESS the LIME with my boobs.

- I want to SENSE the LIGHTLIME as my MUSE.

- I feel all of YOU on a FRENZY state.

I want TO feel the LIME on my HORNS.

(Text: Manuel Espirito Santo)

(Image: Rodrigo de Oliveira)

Voient du stress à travail, la révolution industriel et un chat




Fucking fabrics of LIGHT SMOKE.

Where´s the LIME?

I can´t see it here near the lamp.

POLLY and JEAN, give Me the joys of Industrial Revolution.

They marked an endless Journey toward this simple lamp.

Smoke, what are you doing here, near my LAMP;

Where it all started?

Ideas wandering towards ENCEFALIC sex.

Polly spread your legs, JEAN sing to ME.

Give me the bloody LIME.

Why has the LIGHT gone out?

Why the Industrial REVOLUTION?
For you Polly?

For JEAN or the LIME?

CARESS me with your fingers softly.
(Text: Manuel Espirito Santo)
(Image: Rodrigo de Oliveira)

Friday, March 2, 2007

Piano


Little BIRD of wonder.

What are YOU doing on my keyboards?

I don´t know exactly, but i seek LIGHT LIMES.

Have you seen THEM?

On my keyboards, i TRY to do Magic.

Every KEY has an identity.

Fingerprints are what I need: POLLY joys WONDER.

Haven´t YOU seen IT?

I feel the FINGER of JEAN here.

Lord... Play it LOUD.
I want to hear your VOICE on my KEYS.

Give ME an ORGASM; please...

Surrender your SWEET voice to ME.

I simply don´t KNOW what to DO?

Must I sing?

No LITTLE Bird; PASS your WINGS of desire on my KEYBOARD.

Give ME water.

Give ME your ESSENCE.

SEARCH the holy GRAIL for ME.

Be only a BIRD with no CAGE.

The Sky´s your HOUSE....................


(Text: Manuel Espirito Santo)
(Image: Rodrigo de Oliveira)