Maybe today a flower dawned next to each pillow, a kiss was the first indication of the luck and a hug defined the space where they only fit two.
The day it began to complete tempranamente their old premonitions, as if the whole time of the world had stopped in a date, similar to the ritual of a caress.
The love-that daily discovery – today it decrees their day which if he didn’t have enough with embracing the universe. It is avid the love that today is erected in prophet of itself to be announced eternities from these twenty-four hours that its debtors pay him.
And it is also generous the love, with that to beat of wings, with that music of bodies and of souls, and with that become obstinate spell that seeks that every day of the life they resemble February fourteen, to be consequent with a beautiful one Marti´s claim become urgency of union and well to want in these defiant times: “That the love will be the fashion. That it is marked the one that doesn’t love so that the pain converts it.”