Hello friends of steemit, I am starting in this world as well as many of you. My story today will be to the "Lovers". I hope you like it.
They all want to say great words, even if they do not enter their mouths, each one dreams of being the legend of an insignificant story, but in the heads of those who keep the books of the closed Greeks are great feats.
I no longer have anything to say, I'm watching the couples in the bar of lovers, come every so often to hide from Mexico City, in the middle of tenuous lights and empty tables.
Lovers like bars alone, are less likely to be discovered. They kiss at the bar until they lose their breath, they get drunk, they get high, they think they own the night, and while I serve their mezcals, their tequila, their micheladas, their wine glasses... I end up convinced that those lovers really are the owners of the night.
At this point no matter their domestic lives, wives and husbands are hidden in large cold fish tanks. As the hours go on, the lovers become the perfume of the future great books, they are the new Greeks. Every second, desire puts them one step closer to the epic moment of orgasm or to be more romantic, of the epic moment of love.
While I clean the glasses, I smile thinking about all the crimes that are kept in the bars of the empty bars. The writers don't want to leave their houses, they don't want to go back to the Greeks, but they always write big words, I like being away from them. From the bar I see how the masks fall between a glass and another. Soon the night will end, a bottle of Bacardi Blanco is my companion, the waiters are the anonymous heroes.
We only have to return home alone, one more drink, we free ourselves from the shoes, and in the midst of dirty clothes fall asleep. I just wanted to say that there are nights when I don't want big words or big fake poets, I keep the peace of bar lovers.