<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738</id><updated>2011-12-27T10:47:45.557-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Limbo</title><subtitle type='html'>Letras vivas y algunas muertas.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>75</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-4663637217268560014</id><published>2011-02-18T11:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T11:19:02.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Piel</title><content type='html'>Buscando caricias en el cuerpo,&lt;br /&gt;Se encuentran las delicias de una piel intoxicada,&lt;br /&gt;las arrugas de tristeza,&lt;br /&gt;las marcas del amor,&lt;br /&gt;los pliegues de los años.&lt;br /&gt;Y es que prefiero tocarte a que hables.&lt;br /&gt;porque sólo así te conozco mejor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-4663637217268560014?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/4663637217268560014/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=4663637217268560014' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4663637217268560014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4663637217268560014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2011/02/piel.html' title='Piel'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-834938703379362213</id><published>2010-10-11T14:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T14:56:37.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Con hielos</title><content type='html'>Quiero&lt;br /&gt;Té.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-834938703379362213?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/834938703379362213/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=834938703379362213' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/834938703379362213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/834938703379362213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2010/10/con-hielos.html' title='Con hielos'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-4336894377581047785</id><published>2010-09-27T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T10:40:53.202-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dos Lunares</title><content type='html'>De la suma de lunares se llenaron las estrellas en el techo de aquella habitación,&lt;br /&gt;formando una noche precisa en respiración&lt;br /&gt;sudando la palabra amor,&lt;br /&gt;misma que terminó por borrarte dos lunares de tu cara&lt;br /&gt;para nacer en mi espalda.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-4336894377581047785?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/4336894377581047785/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=4336894377581047785' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4336894377581047785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4336894377581047785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2010/09/dos-lunares.html' title='Dos Lunares'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-1771913920169002012</id><published>2010-09-23T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T14:03:58.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>¿La felicidad aburre?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;La espera de un momento en donde todo vuelva a lo “normal” cansa, mi normalidad conlleva la lágrima precisa pero no perfecta de un sentimiento de ansiedad con sabor a incertidumbre. El sonreír mucho también cansa y más cuando no es falsa, se viene la risa simple y carcajada que roba toda respiración, es todo un ejercicio, se requiere condición.&lt;br /&gt;El fin de la espera llegó en otoño, la costumbre se hizo y lidiar con ser feliz parece un trabajo de manera universal, misma que paga en satisfacción con préstamos de tranquilidad, más no se olvida que es un trabajo, un préstamo y para la vida feliz ni siquiera nosotros le somos indispensables.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-1771913920169002012?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/1771913920169002012/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=1771913920169002012' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1771913920169002012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1771913920169002012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2010/09/la-felicidad-aburre.html' title='¿La felicidad aburre?'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-1338223843700527509</id><published>2010-07-23T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T11:44:48.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1985</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Un cuarto de siglo anuncia mi vida, me lo dicen las ojeras de fin de semana, mi cabello que ahora es largo y siempre chino, las líneas de expresión que se han formado en la nariz por la demanda constante de pucheros, mis anteojos obligatorios cuando entra la noche, el bostezo en la fiesta cuando es de madrugada, un círculo pequeño de verdaderas amistades, el escepticismo, las responsabilidades, la intolerancia y los impuestos. La edad, irónicamente me recuerda el exceso de olvido por las cosas, nombres y personas, de igual manera me la mienta por aquella regla general que a todo mundo nos llega:  "las canas", ese mechón tipo Tongolele (en mi caso) que te agrega tanto una preocupación más como un nuevo artículo al carrito del supermercado, el  tinte, el mismo que ya no se adquiere por traer el cabello a la moda sino por la necesidad de verse joven y escribiendo sobre necesidades recuerdo la palabra "prioridad" y parece que a partir de ciertos años esa palabra se vuelve la base de tus acciones y se olvida poco a poco la espontaneidad.&lt;br /&gt;Unas de las tantas cosas buenas que deja el tiempo, es la suma de acciones y tiliches como son: los besos, abrazos, cartas, nóminas, caricias, risas, viajes, lágrimas, orgasmos, personas, cigarros, canciones, conciertos, cosméticos, arrugas, libros, novios, recuerdos, caja de pandoras, vinos, letras y sobre todo, el mejor de todos, es la capacidad de asombro, la que te permite que si por segundos el tiempo te juega chueco, se puede por lo menos volver a ser niño y sonreír.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-1338223843700527509?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/1338223843700527509/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=1338223843700527509' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1338223843700527509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1338223843700527509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2010/07/julio.html' title='1985'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-6247844969904334603</id><published>2010-04-20T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T21:01:54.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Él</title><content type='html'>¡Maldito Sabina!&lt;br /&gt;Me haces creer con tus palabras, &lt;br /&gt;que mi corazón loco es normal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-6247844969904334603?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/6247844969904334603/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=6247844969904334603' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6247844969904334603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6247844969904334603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2010/04/letras-de-el.html' title='Él'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-8096634417427633353</id><published>2010-02-14T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T23:06:53.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Advertencia</title><content type='html'>El  corazón está lleno de relámpagos, &lt;br /&gt;Su ruido oscuro, seco,  con olor a libro viejo, &lt;br /&gt;llama a todo recuerdo…&lt;br /&gt;Late para cerrar heridas, provocar sonrisas&lt;br /&gt;y tragarse una que otra espina…&lt;br /&gt;Y si esto duele… ¡Felicidades!&lt;br /&gt;Se está vivo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-8096634417427633353?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/8096634417427633353/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=8096634417427633353' title='7 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8096634417427633353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8096634417427633353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2010/02/instructivo.html' title='Advertencia'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-1646479132608231567</id><published>2010-01-26T00:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T00:06:30.329-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nocturna</title><content type='html'>Miraré al cielo y tomaré la luna con mi mano izquierda,&lt;br /&gt;la abrazaré a mi pecho y dormiré con ella, &lt;br /&gt;para alcanzar los sueños...&lt;br /&gt;               que la vida aun no me deja tocar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-1646479132608231567?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/1646479132608231567/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=1646479132608231567' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1646479132608231567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1646479132608231567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2010/01/nocturna.html' title='Nocturna'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-5864943943465751920</id><published>2010-01-12T22:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T14:25:24.695-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Se fué</title><content type='html'>Ya no se cual de los dos sueños se me fué...&lt;br /&gt;Si el que tenía sobre la almohada aquella noche&lt;br /&gt;O el de besar tus labios en un atardecer.&lt;br /&gt;Al final y ya muy tarde, un día él se fué.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-5864943943465751920?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/5864943943465751920/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=5864943943465751920' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5864943943465751920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5864943943465751920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2010/01/se-fue.html' title='Se fué'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-739398108691014763</id><published>2010-01-10T01:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T17:43:00.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intento</title><content type='html'>Guardemos el corazón,&lt;br /&gt;aquí solo existe la razón..&lt;br /&gt;Y no figuras tú.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-739398108691014763?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/739398108691014763/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=739398108691014763' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/739398108691014763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/739398108691014763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2010/01/sabado.html' title='Intento'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-2529464443054909020</id><published>2009-12-30T23:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T23:39:48.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Momentos del 2009</title><content type='html'>1.- Cuando te dejé por un té de limón.&lt;br /&gt;2.- Tu llamada de respeto haciendo mención a la relación inexistente.&lt;br /&gt;3.- El apoyo de ellos y ellas gracias a tu ausencia.&lt;br /&gt;4.- El dinero que llenó felizmente mi bolsillo y se hizo mi amigo.&lt;br /&gt;5.- Deje los flats por tacones.&lt;br /&gt;6.- Tú noticia de que ibas a ser papá.&lt;br /&gt;7.- El llanto más breve y amargo en las piernas de mi madre.&lt;br /&gt;8.- El ciclo que se cerró cuando deje de pronunciar tu nombre y renové el contrato a mi nombre.&lt;br /&gt;9.- Me regalé el regalo más caro del año.&lt;br /&gt;10.- Las citas, los besos, las relaciones, algunas con y sin sentido. &lt;br /&gt;11.- Chile viene a México y tomo su mano. &lt;br /&gt;12.- La risa interminable frente al mar con mi cómplice, mi única amiga.&lt;br /&gt;13.- Cambié el  Brandy por el Whisky &lt;br /&gt;14.- El orgullo y la felicidad constante que me provoca mi hermana. &lt;br /&gt;15.- El saber que siempre estarás en mi vida y que te amo, mi mejor amigo.&lt;br /&gt;16.- La lucha impecable de mi madre. &lt;br /&gt;17.- Las nuevas amistades etílicas.&lt;br /&gt;18.- Acercarme a Dios.&lt;br /&gt;19.- Comprender que soy intolerante y también que me equivoco.&lt;br /&gt;20.- Ir al mar más de 3 veces.&lt;br /&gt;21.- Extrañar a mi padre y obligarme a no hablarle. &lt;br /&gt;22.- El silencio&lt;br /&gt;23.- El silencio&lt;br /&gt;24.- Mi amada soledad.&lt;br /&gt;25.- Una fogata que bastó para salir del caparazón.&lt;br /&gt;26.- Entender que las mariposas en mi estómago si existen.&lt;br /&gt;27.- La ilusión. &lt;br /&gt;28.- El saber que no está en mí, sino en ti.&lt;br /&gt;29.- Odiar la frustración, sentir la impotencia.&lt;br /&gt;30.- El alejarme de tus labios.&lt;br /&gt;31.- Quererte en silencio.&lt;br /&gt;32.- El llanto dulce de mi vida.&lt;br /&gt;33.- Quedarme en casa el último miércoles del año, recordando todo esto con una cerveza.&lt;br /&gt;34.- Y todos los días, sin excepción, hablarles al cielo a mis abuelos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-2529464443054909020?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/2529464443054909020/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=2529464443054909020' title='4 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2529464443054909020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2529464443054909020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/12/momentos-del-2009.html' title='Momentos del 2009'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-2125287154824978893</id><published>2009-12-30T02:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T11:29:33.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ring</title><content type='html'>La llamada sin sentido,&lt;br /&gt;sentido adquiere,  &lt;br /&gt;al escuchar tu voz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No requieres invitación...&lt;br /&gt;          al salón de mis oídos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-2125287154824978893?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/2125287154824978893/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=2125287154824978893' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2125287154824978893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2125287154824978893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/12/ring.html' title='Ring'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-7867174000893247254</id><published>2009-12-28T20:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T21:43:56.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Irónico</title><content type='html'>Te extraño sin tenerte &lt;br /&gt;y tu que me tienes&lt;br /&gt;no se me extraña.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-7867174000893247254?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/7867174000893247254/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=7867174000893247254' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7867174000893247254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7867174000893247254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/12/ironico.html' title='Irónico'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-4183558977240729672</id><published>2009-12-28T18:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T21:45:26.948-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Invierno</title><content type='html'>El hubiera como un recuerdo&lt;br /&gt;Aromas con sabores&lt;br /&gt;Latires en silencio &lt;br /&gt;¿Qué me quedo? &lt;br /&gt;¿Qué te dejo?&lt;br /&gt;Solo se que al alma le llegó su invierno.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-4183558977240729672?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/4183558977240729672/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=4183558977240729672' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4183558977240729672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4183558977240729672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/12/el-hubiera-como-un-recuerdo-aromas-con.html' title='Invierno'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-1782459759224635846</id><published>2009-12-26T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T11:23:47.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ciencia: el arte de conocerte.</title><content type='html'>El regalo fueron tus manos, que sostenían un libro para mi.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-1782459759224635846?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/1782459759224635846/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=1782459759224635846' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1782459759224635846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1782459759224635846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/12/ciencia-el-arte-de-conocerte.html' title='Ciencia: el arte de conocerte.'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-2570538025471189618</id><published>2009-12-23T01:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T02:00:10.172-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Celos</title><content type='html'>Celos: Sentires paralelos, alegría por reafirmar un querer e inseguridad por demás estúpida. Los celos no nacen por los sentidos, no es por lo que se lee, se escucha o se huele, nacen por una simple y compleja razón: la imaginación.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-2570538025471189618?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/2570538025471189618/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=2570538025471189618' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2570538025471189618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2570538025471189618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/12/celos.html' title='Celos'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-8460440959172263332</id><published>2009-12-20T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T00:48:54.921-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Papel</title><content type='html'>Ya no tengo sonrisas ni lágrimas que soltar, &lt;br /&gt;por ello ésta semana, tirare todo lo tuyo &lt;br /&gt;y lo que alguna vez fue mío, &lt;br /&gt;hoy solo es tinta y papel,  &lt;br /&gt;violencia innecesaria para mi cuarto y mi vida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-8460440959172263332?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/8460440959172263332/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=8460440959172263332' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8460440959172263332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8460440959172263332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/12/papel.html' title='Papel'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-5221295099490446182</id><published>2009-12-15T23:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T23:40:48.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Martes de película</title><content type='html'>Quitarse los lentes es como desnudarse...&lt;br /&gt;Encontrarnos en lo íntimo de una mirada,&lt;br /&gt;Donde abrazan las cejas y acarician las pestañas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eso me provoca:&lt;br /&gt;    Tú mirada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-5221295099490446182?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/5221295099490446182/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=5221295099490446182' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5221295099490446182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5221295099490446182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/12/martes-de-pelicula.html' title='Martes de película'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-1353586821908075781</id><published>2009-12-14T22:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T22:23:17.021-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blanco</title><content type='html'>No teñiré mi cabello para que así sigas contando mis canas...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-1353586821908075781?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/1353586821908075781/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=1353586821908075781' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1353586821908075781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1353586821908075781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/12/blanco.html' title='Blanco'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-2675015578889051303</id><published>2009-12-09T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T23:18:13.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Diciembre</title><content type='html'>Con tus labios fríos y la mirada que congela &lt;br /&gt;Me vuelvo diciembre… &lt;br /&gt;¿Te cambiaré por Noviembre?&lt;br /&gt;¡Qué importa!&lt;br /&gt;La luna se refleja en ti…&lt;br /&gt;Y con ella me voy a dormir.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-2675015578889051303?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/2675015578889051303/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=2675015578889051303' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2675015578889051303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2675015578889051303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/12/diciembre.html' title='Diciembre'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-8866305496613404829</id><published>2009-07-30T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T11:57:52.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Limbo</title><content type='html'>Los versos nacieron esta noche, &lt;br /&gt;de miradas constantes y labios bailando &lt;br /&gt;al ritmo de un latido y la emoción andando.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-8866305496613404829?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/8866305496613404829/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=8866305496613404829' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8866305496613404829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8866305496613404829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/07/limbo.html' title='Limbo'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-8299685763421262715</id><published>2009-07-20T23:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T00:02:37.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Carnal</title><content type='html'>La mente no razona &lt;br /&gt;y el corazón solo reacciona… &lt;br /&gt;a la mirada constante de un verde verdad,&lt;br /&gt;a los labios precisos sabor a sal con mar,&lt;br /&gt;llenos de afinidad... de tu ente carnal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-8299685763421262715?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/8299685763421262715/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=8299685763421262715' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8299685763421262715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8299685763421262715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/07/carnal.html' title='Carnal'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-9172199439929761855</id><published>2009-06-23T00:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T10:50:51.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bastille</title><content type='html'>Nuestra conversación me recordó: "Tienes que estar a la altura de las circunstancias" así fue así lo es.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El sábado te regalo un dulcecito de mi sabor para tu colección de momentos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ec0EaL2Qg1A&amp;hl=es&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ec0EaL2Qg1A&amp;hl=es&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-9172199439929761855?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/9172199439929761855/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=9172199439929761855' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/9172199439929761855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/9172199439929761855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/06/bastille.html' title='Bastille'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-6932135331384945172</id><published>2009-06-01T03:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T03:16:55.189-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poemas</title><content type='html'>Para mí… &lt;br /&gt;de vos con tu voz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-6932135331384945172?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/6932135331384945172/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=6932135331384945172' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6932135331384945172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6932135331384945172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/06/poemas.html' title='Poemas'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-2449218838154158457</id><published>2009-05-30T01:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T03:27:47.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Preposiciones</title><content type='html'>Hemos de mentir con lengua y sin labios, &lt;br /&gt;de rodillas y sin llanto,&lt;br /&gt;sin entender esa naturaleza de estupidez con la que muchos navegan... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podré definir: definirte, definirme. &lt;br /&gt;Se sigue sin entender y entre ten te y tiento no se encuentra el famoso “nos”.&lt;br /&gt;Sigo sin, son, tras de un ir, sin tino o destino con vino tinto &lt;br /&gt;y sin contarte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-2449218838154158457?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/2449218838154158457/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=2449218838154158457' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2449218838154158457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2449218838154158457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/05/preposiciones.html' title='Preposiciones'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-7947136297066425952</id><published>2009-05-19T02:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T02:04:26.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Indigesta</title><content type='html'>Me he comido el corazón&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;y&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aún no hace digestión.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        &lt;br /&gt;              Regálenme un Alka Seltzer!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-7947136297066425952?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/7947136297066425952/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=7947136297066425952' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7947136297066425952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7947136297066425952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/05/indigesta.html' title='Indigesta'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-3350756483118652811</id><published>2009-05-11T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T01:15:23.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Olvidos</title><content type='html'>Dejare olvidado en ti… &lt;br /&gt;noches sin lunas, &lt;br /&gt;lengua en cicatriz, &lt;br /&gt;lágrimas sin sal&lt;br /&gt;y la verdadera locura de no sentir por ti, &lt;br /&gt;                             un solo instante de vivir y latir. &lt;br /&gt;Dejo olvidado en ti... &lt;br /&gt;lo que ya no existe en mí. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tú.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-3350756483118652811?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/3350756483118652811/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=3350756483118652811' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3350756483118652811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3350756483118652811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/05/olvidos.html' title='Olvidos'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-5879863352318828166</id><published>2009-04-20T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T23:34:07.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sin levedad</title><content type='html'>Los interruptores de mi cuerpo que prenden y apagan con ecos, me llevan a un mundo que solo en sueños… veo, contemplo y me prometo convertirlos en vivir y ahora que todo está aquí no lo pienso dejar ir, porque al final… las hormigas que picaban mis pies terminaron por peinarme las pestañas sin levedad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-5879863352318828166?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/5879863352318828166/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=5879863352318828166' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5879863352318828166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5879863352318828166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/04/sin-levedad.html' title='Sin levedad'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-3369034222112154614</id><published>2009-03-03T23:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T23:28:28.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunetas</title><content type='html'>Usted siempre fue:&lt;br /&gt;El sarcasmo&lt;br /&gt;La risa oportuna&lt;br /&gt;El silencio preciso&lt;br /&gt;La mano que no se toma&lt;br /&gt;Los besos que no conllevan labios&lt;br /&gt;Pero la luna y el tiempo hicieron su movimiento &lt;br /&gt;Y de tus lunares que parecieran lunetas me voy comiendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/snouZdW2IWg&amp;hl=es&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/snouZdW2IWg&amp;hl=es&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-3369034222112154614?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/3369034222112154614/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=3369034222112154614' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3369034222112154614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3369034222112154614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/03/lunetas.html' title='Lunetas'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-5234585659140379207</id><published>2009-02-22T14:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T23:52:16.844-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bolero, Julio Cortázar</title><content type='html'>Qué vanidad imaginar&lt;br /&gt;que puedo darte todo, el amor y la dicha,&lt;br /&gt;itinerarios, música, juguetes.&lt;br /&gt;Es cierto que es así:&lt;br /&gt;todo lo mío te lo doy, es cierto,&lt;br /&gt;pero todo lo mío no te basta&lt;br /&gt;como a mí no me basta que me des&lt;br /&gt;todo lo tuyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por eso no seremos nunca&lt;br /&gt;la pareja perfecta, la tarjeta postal,&lt;br /&gt;si no somos capaces de aceptar&lt;br /&gt;que sólo en la aritmética&lt;br /&gt;el dos nace del uno más el uno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Por ahí un papelito que&lt;br /&gt;  solamente dice: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siempre fuiste mi espejo,&lt;br /&gt;quiero decir que para verme tenía que mirarte. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Y este fragmento:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La lenta máquina del desamor&lt;br /&gt;los engranajes del reflujo&lt;br /&gt;los cuerpos que abandonan las almohadas&lt;br /&gt;las sábanas los besos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y de pie ante el espejo interrogándose&lt;br /&gt;cada uno a sí mismo&lt;br /&gt;ya no mirándose entre ellos&lt;br /&gt;ya no desnudos para el otro&lt;br /&gt;ya no te amo,&lt;br /&gt;mi amor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Con ello finaliza nuestro círculo, el de conocer tus manos y besarte sin labios, ya no pretendo tocarte ni alcanzarte, se han formulan nuevas sonrisas y caricias para ésta linda vida con todo el mundo mío.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-5234585659140379207?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/5234585659140379207/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=5234585659140379207' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5234585659140379207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5234585659140379207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/02/bolero-julio-cortazar.html' title='Bolero, Julio Cortázar'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-1659606584616358719</id><published>2009-02-10T01:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T12:04:12.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunas Llenas</title><content type='html'>Borré limón y sal porque te miento y me miento, que de la ausencia que existe en este infinito espacio soy feliz, porque de cada día que paso sin estar en ti, tú creces y vuelas yo sonrío y dibujo nubes sicodélicas, porque al paso de los días no se va nada, todo aquí se queda y lo guardo en dosis para las lunas llenas, así te siento, de manera libre y feliz, solitaria pero con fuerza, permanente y para siempre sin espera pero con amor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-1659606584616358719?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/1659606584616358719/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=1659606584616358719' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1659606584616358719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1659606584616358719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/02/lunas-llenas.html' title='Lunas Llenas'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-818317761294463764</id><published>2009-01-25T19:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T19:43:02.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ausencia</title><content type='html'>No lo sabes pero aquí te quedas,&lt;br /&gt; sin esencia, sin presencia, sin razón.&lt;br /&gt;Te quedas como la ausencia…&lt;br /&gt;En esencias que consumen al amor. &lt;br /&gt;Los motivos existen pero los latidos ya no &lt;br /&gt;y la única presencia fue la estupidez entre nosotros dos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-818317761294463764?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/818317761294463764/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=818317761294463764' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/818317761294463764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/818317761294463764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/ausencia.html' title='Ausencia'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-3597706556176798060</id><published>2009-01-20T23:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T23:01:13.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Virgen Conductora</title><content type='html'>Cuando subes al carro y te miras en el espejo creo que lo haces por vanidad, pero tu única intención es mirar la distancia entre tu cabeza y el reflejo de los carros, ésta noche me mentiste, pero me gustó! Me llevaste a mi sitio favorito y estuviste ahí cuando mas lo necesitaba, siempre lo estás solo que en ésta ocasión estuve presente en tu primera vez y con un poco de suerte en tu primera mentada de madre, sacaste en mi la risa que necesitaba y la lágrima también nos acompaño,  por ello te estacionaré cuando pueda y vos quieras, viva el centro y esos momentos.!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-3597706556176798060?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/3597706556176798060/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=3597706556176798060' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3597706556176798060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3597706556176798060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/virgen-conductora.html' title='Virgen Conductora'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-435581040172178186</id><published>2009-01-19T11:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:43:41.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Las Flores</title><content type='html'>La lluvia bajo mis ojos ahogó tus flores&lt;br /&gt;Solo de caricias se cultivan de nuevo…&lt;br /&gt;¡Mataste mi rostro!&lt;br /&gt;Y yo mi sonrisa…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-435581040172178186?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/435581040172178186/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=435581040172178186' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/435581040172178186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/435581040172178186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/las-flores_19.html' title='Las Flores'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-9139181273859550205</id><published>2009-01-19T11:42:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:43:08.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Suicida</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Todo hombre es dueño de cambiar y destruir los sueños que él mismo ha construido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;y al hacerlo, no es asesino...&lt;br /&gt;sino suicida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-9139181273859550205?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/9139181273859550205/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=9139181273859550205' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/9139181273859550205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/9139181273859550205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/suicida.html' title='Suicida'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-5067249701582815311</id><published>2009-01-19T11:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:42:27.088-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Muerte de día</title><content type='html'>Puedo odiar lo que haces, amar lo que das. &lt;br /&gt;Puedo dejarte en el recuerdo y encerrarte en el cajón de mis sueños. &lt;br /&gt;Puedo crearte en mi mente y esperar una nueva vida para volver a verte. &lt;br /&gt;Puedo seguir contemplando el fin del día en la búsqueda de tus pupilas. &lt;br /&gt;Puedo y puedes seguir en mi vida sin ningún final &lt;br /&gt;Por que así lo quiero y te quiero hasta que mueran los días.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-5067249701582815311?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/5067249701582815311/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=5067249701582815311' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5067249701582815311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5067249701582815311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/muerte-de-da.html' title='Muerte de día'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-8582617474547329711</id><published>2009-01-19T11:41:00.004-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:42:08.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seres</title><content type='html'>Puedo ser y no ser&lt;br /&gt;lo que tú quieras de mí ser  &lt;br /&gt;siendo y estando, &lt;br /&gt;si siempre lo estamos &lt;br /&gt;como ahora, como ayer &lt;br /&gt;como siempre de niña soñé, así te amaré&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-8582617474547329711?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/8582617474547329711/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=8582617474547329711' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8582617474547329711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8582617474547329711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/seres.html' title='Seres'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-1008680566414658414</id><published>2009-01-19T11:41:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:41:50.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Besos Rojos</title><content type='html'>Me estoy sintiendo lejos &lt;br /&gt;Voy llegando a casa &lt;br /&gt;Donde el alma no llora &lt;br /&gt;y los besos son rojos. &lt;br /&gt;Tu mano en la mía  &lt;br /&gt;no abro los ojos  &lt;br /&gt;y conozco.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-1008680566414658414?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/1008680566414658414/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=1008680566414658414' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1008680566414658414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1008680566414658414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/besos-rojos.html' title='Besos Rojos'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-6335803383944690830</id><published>2009-01-19T11:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:41:31.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amuleto</title><content type='html'>Es tu dedo enredado en mi cabello revolviendo sueños&lt;br /&gt;En la imagen de una tina donde el agua baila&lt;br /&gt;Degustando caricias, inventando besos&lt;br /&gt;Así te quiero, así sin miedo…&lt;br /&gt;Sin la frase del recuerdo&lt;br /&gt;Con un todo perfecto&lt;br /&gt;Me llevo tus ojos de amuleto para seguir durmiendo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-6335803383944690830?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/6335803383944690830/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=6335803383944690830' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6335803383944690830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6335803383944690830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/amuleto.html' title='Amuleto'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-1271664499364592551</id><published>2009-01-19T11:40:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:40:55.591-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Té</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cuenta la levedad de tu cuerpo en mi piel&lt;br /&gt;La sinceridad de tus caricias por razón de ser&lt;br /&gt;La mano que se extiende por querer nacer&lt;br /&gt;Cuentan los besos por amor&lt;br /&gt;Cuenta las caídas, las heridas, las sonrisas, la ilusión…&lt;br /&gt;Cuenta una vez más que por creer en tu querer seamos dos.&lt;br /&gt;Quiero creer-te. Quiero té.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-1271664499364592551?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/1271664499364592551/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=1271664499364592551' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1271664499364592551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/1271664499364592551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/t.html' title='Té'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-3002651663428453573</id><published>2009-01-19T11:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:40:25.551-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Final</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cada historia tiene un final...&lt;br /&gt;pero en mi vida&lt;br /&gt;Cada final tiene un comienzo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-3002651663428453573?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/3002651663428453573/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=3002651663428453573' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3002651663428453573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3002651663428453573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/final.html' title='Final'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-9149184039662269645</id><published>2009-01-19T11:39:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:40:02.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Llave</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Me he mudado de casa y de piel.&lt;br /&gt;Cerré mi pecho con candado.&lt;br /&gt;Tiré la llave al olvido.&lt;br /&gt;Alma en estado de reconstrucción.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-9149184039662269645?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/9149184039662269645/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=9149184039662269645' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/9149184039662269645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/9149184039662269645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/llave.html' title='Llave'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-2341058708154033115</id><published>2009-01-19T11:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:39:33.579-08:00</updated><title type='text'>De lunas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Espirales de letras, he borrado una y otra vez por no saber plasmar un sentimiento ya nacido, por no aceptar lo que ya se sabe,  lo que se provoca, lo que muere ....&lt;br /&gt;Me cuesta creer que por quererme no estás y por quererte pueda hacerlo bien o mal. Al final todo aquello que no se da, se pierde... Se pierde como aquella mano que se prometió no soltar y ahora que está ahi no dan ganas de alcanzar, tristeza pensar que lo construido se va... Se va a los huecos de mi cuerpo a la cajita que tengo por alma, al nido de la vida, a la luna llena de ayer...&lt;br /&gt;Todo se difumina con el tiempo, se cansa... se cansa éste corazón así como yo por llevarlo encima... en una espera, engañándome he estado sumida en la espera, en la espera de esos ecos que solo transportan silencio, tus silencios... que ya no esconden lo eterno sino la ausencia de tu cuerpo...&lt;br /&gt;Yo para ti en dosis, en necesidad, en momentos, sin espera pero con amor...&lt;br /&gt;Tu para mi, todo... pero en el espacio de tu ser y mi ser mis manos vacías ya no quieren fragmentos de tu piel, porque en la suma total de lo mucho o poco que me das, no estás.             &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PD. Te dedico la luna llena, para que te llene, que yo sanaré los cráteres que de tu luna siempre tendré. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-2341058708154033115?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/2341058708154033115/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=2341058708154033115' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2341058708154033115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2341058708154033115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/de-lunas.html' title='De lunas'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-3442997194081765486</id><published>2009-01-19T11:38:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:39:02.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacío</title><content type='html'>Miedo...de ti y de mí&lt;br /&gt;De lo conocido, de lo prometido…&lt;br /&gt;Me entrego al vacío con los brazos abiertos…&lt;br /&gt;Para sentir  tus caricias convertidas en aire&lt;br /&gt;Espero de ti y de mí…la caída, el sueño profundo, el beso perfecto.&lt;br /&gt;Incrédula en la espera&lt;br /&gt;Escéptica de amor por temor&lt;br /&gt;Sin ti… pero conmigo&lt;br /&gt;Me voy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-3442997194081765486?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/3442997194081765486/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=3442997194081765486' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3442997194081765486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3442997194081765486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/vaco.html' title='Vacío'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-4093901088366547938</id><published>2009-01-19T11:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:38:41.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Soñando</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mi espalda en la cama y el techo un reflejo de estrellas, decidida a soñar tome a la luna de cojín y me encontré en aquel jardín amado por mi. Las nubes pintaban el escenario perfecto, mire al cielo con la duda de una lluvia, la esperaba y la espera no fue larga, ahi estaba mi cara mojada, el olor a cantera húmeda, la risa de los niños, fotografías perfectas mis pupilas capturaban y a lo lejos una trova que venia de una alcoba me recordaban los brazos de mi madre, sus ojos serenos, creando su paz...&lt;br /&gt;Oprimo mi pecho para almacenar momentos de ensueños  para después jugar con la realidad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-4093901088366547938?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/4093901088366547938/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=4093901088366547938' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4093901088366547938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4093901088366547938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/soando.html' title='Soñando'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-5076075114911640650</id><published>2009-01-19T11:37:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:38:16.598-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Un año más</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tú me recordarás...&lt;br /&gt;Tú imagen me recordará aquellos años... el amor, las rosas, una cerveza obscura, el eco del silencio, los felinos, las fichas, el torres, la caricia..&lt;br /&gt;El Amor tú, tu amor, el último abrazo, la familia, la pasión con nombres, el café sin azúcar, tu mala memoria, mi creatividad, Tú recordaras... recordaré el cariño en una noche, las pupilas bailando en un sofá, en un bar, la chamarra de mezclilla, el gazpacho, un perfecto café en un olvidado Internet.&lt;br /&gt;Brindemos por recordar, que soy capaz de enamorar, de amar, de entregar, de ser...&lt;br /&gt;Tú que te vas, me seguirás enseñando, si te vuelvo a recordar…que ya pasó un año más.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-5076075114911640650?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/5076075114911640650/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=5076075114911640650' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5076075114911640650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5076075114911640650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/un-ao-ms.html' title='Un año más'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-7157088725564565439</id><published>2009-01-19T11:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:37:33.648-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cielo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Me creí un naufrago en ésta vida, cuando mi barco, tú barco me dejo para irse a nuevas tierras, me quede en el azul profundo de un océano que no entendía, que daba miedo...&lt;br /&gt;Intenté nadar a tus tierras, mas cada día me pesaban los brazos, la mente, el luchar por ti me fue cansando... Pasaron los días y terminé amando el mar, la sal de mi cuerpo, el movimiento de las olas arrullo mis miedos. Y todo lo que anhele un día se fue, lo dejé ir para quedarme con las caricias sinceras de una luna, para poder mirar al cielo y seguir sonriendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-7157088725564565439?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/7157088725564565439/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=7157088725564565439' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7157088725564565439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7157088725564565439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/cielo.html' title='Cielo'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-3483998778203673981</id><published>2009-01-19T11:36:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:37:00.807-08:00</updated><title type='text'>4:16</title><content type='html'>Te siento…&lt;br /&gt;Siento tú recuerdo&lt;br /&gt;Y tú mas el olvido…&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Contesta:….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que pronto seré más del silencio&lt;br /&gt;Que tuya…&lt;br /&gt;Y tú seguirás siendo del miedo…&lt;br /&gt;Cuando antes fuiste mío.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-3483998778203673981?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/3483998778203673981/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=3483998778203673981' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3483998778203673981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3483998778203673981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/416.html' title='4:16'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-7699231559596268105</id><published>2009-01-19T11:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T11:36:37.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>De esas</title><content type='html'>Hoy necesité la serenidad de tus ojos&lt;br /&gt;tus palabras correctas : "todo va estar bien"&lt;br /&gt;la calidez de tus labios al besar mi frente&lt;br /&gt;tus brazos perfectos para ser de mi mundo&lt;br /&gt;el espacio correcto donde se albergan mis miedos&lt;br /&gt;de esas tus manos donde en la caricia se guardan tus ecos...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-7699231559596268105?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/7699231559596268105/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=7699231559596268105' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7699231559596268105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7699231559596268105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/de-esas.html' title='De esas'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-6067765246465861406</id><published>2009-01-19T10:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:40:08.884-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Música para el alma</title><content type='html'>Te extraño...&lt;br /&gt;Tú, quien consume mi ansiedad&lt;br /&gt;y también la provocas&lt;br /&gt;es con la luz de la luna&lt;br /&gt;cuando  nacen secretos al oído&lt;br /&gt;es con el frío de la noche&lt;br /&gt;que me mata por morder labios…&lt;br /&gt;Son mis manos frías las que mueren por el calor de tu nuca&lt;br /&gt;y solo la música consuela mi alma...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-6067765246465861406?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/6067765246465861406/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=6067765246465861406' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6067765246465861406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6067765246465861406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/msica-para-el-alma.html' title='Música para el alma'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-8638226091120131070</id><published>2009-01-19T10:38:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:39:40.401-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Por el cráter de la luna en mi espalda...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Fabricaré nuevos sueños, amando sin orgullos, sin problemas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;sin temor ...&lt;br /&gt;Me enseñaste amar de mil maneras, hoy entendí una más&lt;br /&gt;que se rompe un corazón para crecer de cualquier manera&lt;br /&gt;que se es cómplice del tiempo por amor&lt;br /&gt;Amor propio, amor ajeno&lt;br /&gt;Me dejo de sueños compartidos&lt;br /&gt;buscando el sueño propio...&lt;br /&gt;ser mejor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-8638226091120131070?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/8638226091120131070/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=8638226091120131070' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8638226091120131070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8638226091120131070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/por-el-crter-de-la-luna-en-mi-espalda.html' title='Por el cráter de la luna en mi espalda...'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-4559239288821939072</id><published>2009-01-19T10:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:38:42.304-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ecos</title><content type='html'>Mi alma grita y tú la callas o prefieres no oírla… &lt;br /&gt;Pero como callar lo que se respira en el aire, &lt;br /&gt;Guardar el sentimiento que  provocas, &lt;br /&gt;Jugar a seres y placeres clandestinos, todo por un tiempo… &lt;br /&gt;Un tiempo que tiembla de miedo, que agoniza sin caricias y vive de recuerdos. &lt;br /&gt;No pretendo ser recuerdos…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-4559239288821939072?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/4559239288821939072/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=4559239288821939072' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4559239288821939072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4559239288821939072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/ecos.html' title='Ecos'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-2490836138024029420</id><published>2009-01-19T10:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:38:21.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Instante</title><content type='html'>No te muevas... &lt;br /&gt;Quiero conservar este instante así, &lt;br /&gt;arañando el silencio con tus ojos, &lt;br /&gt;morder &lt;br /&gt;sonreír &lt;br /&gt;a ti ... &lt;br /&gt;Pedazo de cielo que no merecí, &lt;br /&gt;juguemos a sentir...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-2490836138024029420?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/2490836138024029420/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=2490836138024029420' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2490836138024029420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2490836138024029420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/instante.html' title='Instante'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-6562387063056556826</id><published>2009-01-19T10:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:32:28.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tren</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Subo al tren de la despedida&lt;br /&gt;Para marcharme de tu vida…&lt;br /&gt;Los recuerdos  hacen de mí una sonrisa&lt;br /&gt;Y la tristeza llega cuando veo nuestro error&lt;br /&gt;Que fue, amor mío, el amarnos tanto los dos…adiós.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-6562387063056556826?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/6562387063056556826/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=6562387063056556826' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6562387063056556826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6562387063056556826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/tren.html' title='Tren'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-8742315341428430872</id><published>2009-01-19T10:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:32:01.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ojos de miel</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hagamos un vals de nuestros labios al besar,&lt;br /&gt;Que la luna es testigo de nuestro acariciar&lt;br /&gt;Ojos de miel…&lt;br /&gt;No dejes de bailar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-8742315341428430872?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/8742315341428430872/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=8742315341428430872' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8742315341428430872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8742315341428430872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/ojos-de-miel.html' title='Ojos de miel'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-950884783514489960</id><published>2009-01-19T10:30:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:31:37.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor Menguante</title><content type='html'>La noche me dijo: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ya no hay amor&lt;/span&gt;, mire a la luna&lt;br /&gt;con la esperanza de que fuera un error, y no,  &lt;br /&gt;me mostró un corazón menguante,&lt;br /&gt;que se oculta y muere con el sol…  &lt;br /&gt;Y no te culpo amor, pues el destino decidió y&lt;br /&gt;la fuerza de &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“nunca sueltes ésta mano”&lt;/span&gt; murió,&lt;br /&gt;ni sueños, ni labios  quedaron, todo se fugo...&lt;br /&gt;tan solo nos queda el recuerdo de un dulce amor...&lt;br /&gt;Somos lo que fue y fuimos lo que ya no es, perdón.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-950884783514489960?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/950884783514489960/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=950884783514489960' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/950884783514489960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/950884783514489960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/amor-menguante.html' title='Amor Menguante'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-9140926065237277412</id><published>2009-01-19T10:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:30:42.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ficción</title><content type='html'>El  compás de sentimientos se alterna con tu recuerdo, &lt;br /&gt;en espejos observo tus besos, esos que nacen cuando no esta tu cuerpo&lt;br /&gt;no miento, pues es verdad  y no un sueño lo que siento…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; ...&lt;/span&gt;¡No te siento!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-9140926065237277412?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/9140926065237277412/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=9140926065237277412' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/9140926065237277412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/9140926065237277412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/ficcin.html' title='Ficción'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-4320809089726840736</id><published>2009-01-19T10:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:30:00.452-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Corazón Ajeno</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Respiro, recuerdo y me aferro…a ese sentimiento que llevaba dentro...&lt;br /&gt;toco mi pecho y siento hueco…&lt;br /&gt;ahora se que ya no te encuentras dentro, eras el sentimiento…&lt;br /&gt;aquel que se llevo el viento en gritos y sueños...&lt;br /&gt;quitándome un corazón que siempre fue ajeno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-4320809089726840736?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/4320809089726840736/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=4320809089726840736' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4320809089726840736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/4320809089726840736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/corazn-ajeno.html' title='Corazón Ajeno'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-7690108831642532505</id><published>2009-01-19T10:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:29:24.469-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Invierno</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Entre el teléfono y tu voz, brotó una lágrima&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Derramando  amor… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soltar mi mano fue lo último que se prometió&lt;br /&gt;Dejar los sueños inconclusos sin decir adiós…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tengo miedo… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;por la soledad que hablará, por los labios que reclamarán&lt;br /&gt;Mataré tus besos y muchas cosas más&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;para no recordar, para olvidar… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me quedo sola con el  invierno que en mi pecho anidará,&lt;br /&gt;tomaré su fuerza para no sentir&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; jamás.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-7690108831642532505?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/7690108831642532505/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=7690108831642532505' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7690108831642532505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7690108831642532505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/invierno.html' title='Invierno'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-3517183816380731271</id><published>2009-01-19T10:27:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:28:16.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gota</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sonido que cae con la noche, aun con el paso del tiempo me sigue tranquilizando la gota por gota que en mi mente provoca el destape de mi universo que forma ideas, placeres y paranoias… Respira profundo, cierro los ojos sin miedo, soy parte de un cortometraje húmedo, es la vida... en destellos de pequeños instantes que recuerdo en color mate, que se suda en color sangre, que dejo… te dejo pero me llevo los momentos, me baño sin tus besos, te busco en los espejos y no te encuentro...abro los ojos con miedo…empieza un nuevo sueño.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-3517183816380731271?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/3517183816380731271/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=3517183816380731271' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3517183816380731271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3517183816380731271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/gota.html' title='Gota'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-3041951593521271</id><published>2009-01-19T10:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:27:43.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'>El viaje</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tu ausencia se atornilla en mi mente, el recuerdo late a cada instante, vientos lentos de cordura -no es mi mejor día-, se aproximan los viajes nocturnos de constelaciones en sueños y anhelos, que recorro por llegar a tu cuerpo, nace en mi pecho la constante de saberte en mis labios, de procurarte en mis manos, de hablarte en silencio de los silencios que provoca tu cuerpo... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-3041951593521271?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/3041951593521271/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=3041951593521271' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3041951593521271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/3041951593521271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/el-viaje.html' title='El viaje'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-2944603942595986104</id><published>2009-01-19T10:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:27:16.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nudo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;No debí abrir los ojos&lt;br /&gt;pero me aferre a las miradas y caricias que nacen con el sol&lt;br /&gt;No me conformaba con hundirme en los sueños,&lt;br /&gt;hacer de las sabanas que rozan mi cuerpo&lt;br /&gt;el nudo perfecto que decore mi cuello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-2944603942595986104?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/2944603942595986104/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=2944603942595986104' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2944603942595986104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2944603942595986104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/nudo.html' title='Nudo'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-803712092315332013</id><published>2009-01-18T23:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:35:13.964-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eterno</title><content type='html'>La noche llama la sangre&lt;br /&gt;es el brote de un sentimiento...&lt;br /&gt;el sentir tu ausencia&lt;br /&gt;afiliada entre mis huesos&lt;br /&gt;aferrada en recuerdos&lt;br /&gt;con espinas de tus labios&lt;br /&gt;y miradas de veneno&lt;br /&gt;rasgando éste corazón latiendo&lt;br /&gt;dañando así… &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lo eterno&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-803712092315332013?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/803712092315332013/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=803712092315332013' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/803712092315332013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/803712092315332013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/eterno.html' title='Eterno'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-81765690345174864</id><published>2009-01-18T23:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:32:35.054-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Delirio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;En el despertar de un corazón limpio y sincero, me detengo a definir éste sentimiento pero las palabras faltan y esto que llevo se desborda por dentro, pretendo escucharte entre versos y trovas o mirarte en la luna de mi alcoba, suspiro y me aferro al aire que solo tú provocas para así reencarnar en tu aliento y recorrer tu cuerpo, alimentar mis sueños con la luna es lo único que quiero, sentir sentimientos profundos y necios en la necedad de que solo por el momento pretendo delirar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-81765690345174864?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/81765690345174864/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=81765690345174864' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/81765690345174864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/81765690345174864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/delirio.html' title='Delirio'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-7980783054957304444</id><published>2009-01-18T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:31:31.198-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intentos</title><content type='html'>Tu imagen me come a cada instante&lt;br /&gt;por instantes de intentos  te recuerdo&lt;br /&gt;con efectos secundarios se consume mi cuerpo&lt;br /&gt;todo se difumina como un poema muerto&lt;br /&gt;¡tú no estas muerto!&lt;br /&gt;y éste corazón sigue latiendo&lt;br /&gt;con manos frías por neblinas&lt;br /&gt;de sentires por sentirme… Viva.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-7980783054957304444?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/7980783054957304444/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=7980783054957304444' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7980783054957304444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7980783054957304444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/intentos.html' title='Intentos'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-6491185553097157745</id><published>2009-01-18T23:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:23:10.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letargo</title><content type='html'>Dame motivos para escribir&lt;br /&gt;Y razones para sufrir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mata las miradas&lt;br /&gt;Córtame los labios&lt;br /&gt;Enciende mi pelo y&lt;br /&gt;Quema mi piel&lt;br /&gt;Que no quede huella de ti&lt;br /&gt;Que no quede nada de mí…&lt;br /&gt;Porque en mi…Estás tú!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Razón para vivir- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero cruje el alma…&lt;br /&gt;Cruje...mi alma si no estás aquí&lt;br /&gt;Ojalá aquí y solo aquí murieras &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;en mí… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-6491185553097157745?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/6491185553097157745/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=6491185553097157745' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6491185553097157745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/6491185553097157745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/letargo.html' title='Letargo'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-7260961589463744836</id><published>2009-01-18T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:18:07.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Declarando Guerra</title><content type='html'>Lunares de tu cuerpo que quiero entender &lt;br /&gt;Explicarlos, comerlos y así nacer... &lt;br /&gt;Parir con el sentimiento de pecar con tu ser &lt;br /&gt;Hacerte la guerra, mutilarnos de placer… &lt;br /&gt;Reclamando besos de un ayer &lt;br /&gt;En busca de la tregua por tu piel ó &lt;br /&gt;Morir en tus labios de una vez.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-7260961589463744836?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/7260961589463744836/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=7260961589463744836' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7260961589463744836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7260961589463744836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/declarando-guerra.html' title='Declarando Guerra'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-8567474707925629101</id><published>2009-01-18T23:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:20:37.597-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cursilerías</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;¿Qué piensas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;Cursilerías…. Respondo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;Viene la risa nerviosa&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;y me escondo en tu oído&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;esperando que mi aliento grite mil palabras&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;Regreso al pecado de tus labios&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;donde  tu lengua me perdona&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;Empieza el mundo de miradas y yo&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;sigo hablando en silencio…&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;Te cansas de éste silencio y me dices:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cursi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-8567474707925629101?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/8567474707925629101/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=8567474707925629101' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8567474707925629101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8567474707925629101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/cursileras.html' title='Cursilerías'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-2501727763596047342</id><published>2009-01-18T23:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:14:59.434-08:00</updated><title type='text'>El Big Bang de un latir</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Caímos en el cráter de la luna&lt;br /&gt;Y nos tocamos con ternura&lt;br /&gt;nos cubrimos de besos&lt;br /&gt;Para sentir el centro del universo...&lt;br /&gt;Y llego el deseo&lt;br /&gt;Donde nacen los sueños&lt;br /&gt;Donde parten las caricias&lt;br /&gt;Donde se rompe en celos&lt;br /&gt;Donde se entrega el ser jugando a ser...&lt;br /&gt;¡Ser... soy… eres... somos…!&lt;br /&gt;Somos fuga de estrellas&lt;br /&gt;Que bajamos a esta tierra…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-2501727763596047342?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/2501727763596047342/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=2501727763596047342' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2501727763596047342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/2501727763596047342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/el-big-bang-de-un-latir.html' title='El Big Bang de un latir'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-7669276682903925534</id><published>2009-01-18T23:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:13:15.519-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Luna de cuarto</title><content type='html'>Estando en los entes de mi mente…&lt;br /&gt;me persiguen porque hoy no puedo verte…&lt;br /&gt;ni tocarte, solo amarte en el silencio…&lt;br /&gt;silencio de una noche, noche de luna para soñarte…&lt;br /&gt;Y despierto y siempre esta el hueco…el vuelco en el alma&lt;br /&gt;el vacío en la cama…el nudo en la garganta…&lt;br /&gt;con la mirada perdida en la ventana…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-7669276682903925534?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/7669276682903925534/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=7669276682903925534' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7669276682903925534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7669276682903925534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/luna-de-cuarto.html' title='Luna de cuarto'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-7661630377441233576</id><published>2009-01-18T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:12:49.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturada</title><content type='html'>Qué impulso... que fiebre ¡!&lt;br /&gt;Qué ansia de cargar con filo en los labios...&lt;br /&gt;Qué manía de dejar la mano vacía&lt;br /&gt;Sabor a sentimiento gastado&lt;br /&gt;Qué susto… que miedo&lt;br /&gt;Sentirme el espejo de tu sobra&lt;br /&gt;Rompiendo en llanto, cortando mejillas…&lt;br /&gt;Acariciando sueños y nada... ¡!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-7661630377441233576?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/7661630377441233576/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=7661630377441233576' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7661630377441233576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/7661630377441233576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/saturada.html' title='Saturada'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-5530759283369082433</id><published>2009-01-18T23:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:10:58.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'>En mis sentidos</title><content type='html'>No te extraño...&lt;br /&gt;porque aquí te quedas ...&lt;br /&gt;te quedaste aquí ...&lt;br /&gt;tú, si tú ...&lt;br /&gt;¿me escuchas ?¿ me sientes ? ¿me hueles ?&lt;br /&gt;estoy aquí contigo, sin ti, pero estamos ...&lt;br /&gt;lo estamos, ¿no ?&lt;br /&gt;dime que ¡si !&lt;br /&gt;que aún sigues, seguimos...&lt;br /&gt;seguimos sintiendo...&lt;br /&gt;en el siento, en el dueles, en el beso...&lt;br /&gt;besos, besándote ...&lt;br /&gt;Si, es difícil sin labios...&lt;br /&gt;Como hablarte en el silencio...&lt;br /&gt;...SILENCIO...&lt;br /&gt;Aún escucho un corazón latiendo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-5530759283369082433?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/5530759283369082433/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=5530759283369082433' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5530759283369082433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5530759283369082433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/en-mis-sentidos.html' title='En mis sentidos'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-5774206096986657061</id><published>2009-01-18T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:08:17.338-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lluvia de Julio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Has llegado tú entre los sonidos de la noche&lt;br /&gt;tranquilo, perfecto, en silencio….&lt;br /&gt;me miraste y en un recuerdo llegaste a ese sentimiento&lt;br /&gt;que no muy lejano llevabas dentro&lt;br /&gt;que si te reconocí? Si...&lt;br /&gt;tu rostro, tu cuerpo, tu voz, tenían forma... al fin...&lt;br /&gt;al fin... de la noche y fumando estrellas, te sentí…&lt;br /&gt;¿sabias a mi ... a ti ? ¿Sabemos?... Sabíamos que nos habíamos encontrado&lt;br /&gt;encontrar lo que algún día perdí, que en sueños lejanos te vi  y deje ir&lt;br /&gt;satisfacción plena es ahora el tenerte, mirarte y recrearte... besarte, amarte…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-5774206096986657061?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/5774206096986657061/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=5774206096986657061' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5774206096986657061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/5774206096986657061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/lluvia-de-julio.html' title='Lluvia de Julio'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-8409233939158465809</id><published>2009-01-18T23:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:07:37.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tu fantasma</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"...Me levantó tu olor-sabor, si, estabas ahí, ya no era suficiente tu imagen en mi techo sino la ausencia de tu esencia en mi boca..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-8409233939158465809?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/8409233939158465809/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=8409233939158465809' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8409233939158465809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/8409233939158465809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/tu-fantasma.html' title='Tu fantasma'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741664789707936738.post-9034388778577740562</id><published>2009-01-18T23:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:05:35.058-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Despierta Jaguar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;"...Ya con la luna en mi oído, con la voz quebrada, la mirada perdida, el sueño robado … muere la lágrima, se desata la furia y nazco de nuevo con un corazón ardiendo…"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6741664789707936738-9034388778577740562?l=torm3nta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/feeds/9034388778577740562/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6741664789707936738&amp;postID=9034388778577740562' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/9034388778577740562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6741664789707936738/posts/default/9034388778577740562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://torm3nta.blogspot.com/2009/01/despierta-jaguar.html' title='Despierta Jaguar'/><author><name>Sandra Balaam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11191583382496611858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dUB81iD3bXo/Sy6pqnyUhHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Vw4dmaQkMGA/S220/DSC_0188.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
