Un Poco de Todos / A Bit of Everyone
There is a bit of everyone in the world in me and a bit of me in everyone in the world.
She can never quite remember a quote in English the way she can in her native tongue and so she repeated, “Hay un poco de todos en el mundo en mí y un poco de mí en todos en el mundo,”
Muy buena.
Some say and sometimes we say, “I’m yours” and physically, biologically and psychologically we become theirs from the sound we speak, through their ears, into their mind and into their heart, and they become ours even biologically as we trace the flavors of the billions of particles of organic and inorganic matter that a man can taste on a woman’s neck and in her mouth and down every path she will allow his hands and lips and tongue to travel.
The taste of a woman is a journey through her present to her past and back again and she was a journey he traveled in the past and again, and again traveled that morning as she complained about his words from the day before. His words had been “I don’t think you are pleased with me and I don’t think there is much I can do about it. Should I go away?”
How can femininity find the energy to begin a day litigating words from the day before of that person he was the day before, feeling as he felt, at that moment. Honest words of an honest moment, reflecting the reality of heavy footsteps on the floor and heavier setting of items here, and then setting there and the heaviest of closing of doors. Heavy. Heavier. And heaviest. He lay there the day before feeling them pound into him as the day before had pounded him with the pain of memories and moments that cannot be changed and for which he feels trapped in a life less than living for the moment but rather a life trapped in a search of compensation for a past of his rights and others wrongs and his wrongs and others rights.
So he asked her, “Is that where you want to begin the day, with the mad discussing the sad? He was sad yesterday. Sad and hopeless. Is that how you want to start today? Or do you want a conflict and have him find a bit of anger and a bit of madness to divert him from his sadness of the day before?”
She did not know and he did not tell her that what had awakened him moments before was a dream where he stood in the gentle embrace of the mother of his children when a young woman with dark hair and bright brown eyes walked through the door. In his dream he intuitively knew an embrace of the mother of his children was of little concern and he could easily explain to the young woman with the jealous fear in her bright brown eyes which earlier in the dream had danced at him, while her hands removed for him, the free flowing white linen that covered her from the tropical sunset. He knew her look reflected a stab of adrenaline from her belly, to her brain and a gush of oxytocin that she felt in the warm pleasure of a private sunset, now as a hot, jealous rush of rage and fear.
He awoke wondering who was the young woman in his dream and savoring the essence of her touch, taste and bright eyes that made him alive not only in a moment in a dream, but now in an awakened moment even as a woman with dark brown hair and bright brown eyes, opened her mouth and with terse lips and strained voice complained of the words she received the day before.
Nature's small particles are not static. They reverberate from one pole to another, around each other and any direction, each with their own force. And even as the universe is ever expanding, with every breath the story of each life expands with every experience, conscious or subconscious and with every thought and dream. And he lay there as if still the man in his dream, knowing intuitively what to think and what to say and what he would do.
But for a moment he considered, not of the man in his dream, but of the man from the day before who sat in a dentist chair with silent tears rolling down his face after seeing the masked face of a brown hair and brown eyed woman with a soft pitched voice behind a mask and thinking of another woman he once met with similar eyes, similar hair and a similar voice, who had also spoken to him from behind a mask. And he thought how that moment 3 years later was still a part of him as was a moment with a brown haired, brown eyed woman with a softly accented voice from even 30 years before. In that way he thought, “They are from that moment, until now, a part of me, and somewhere in a moment of anyone's memory, I am a part of someone.” And so he spoke in the voice of the man he was in the dream, in the same voice in which he had spoken to the young woman in the dream saying to the woman in the present, “There is a bit of everyone in the world in me and there is a bit of me in everyone in this world.”
Then he added, “Do you wish to discuss the person who felt those words yesterday or do you wish to discuss the words that were just spoken. “
“Ellos son la misma persona”
“But are they?” he replied. “That was a sad person feeling sadness at that moment. This moment, this person is not feeling sad and while he knows of that moment and the moments preceding the sadness, he is not feeling them at this moment. At this moment this man is experiencing rather than feeling this moment, not feeling but only seeing the indignation on a face and the tone of irritation in a voice. But he is not feeling sad, nor is he feeling sad for that person, he only feels curious as to how that person wishes to begin their day and if they will begin it with sad thoughts or quarrelsome thoughts, or if perhaps they wish to experience some other emotion?”
She replied with glaring eyes. But such glares or worse from a brown eyed girl do not bother the man in the dream. And now awakened they do not bother him as he rolls over and upon her so that he can see the bright glare in her eyes and with his right hand stroke the brown hair that surrounds her pouting face. She does not turn away as her brown eyes become a reflection of his blue and the organic and inorganic matter from her becomes from her neck to his lips and mouth, dissolving on his tongue as part salty, part sweet and part of which he knows only as the taste of a woman's essence that is now to become a part of him.
Pressing a leg above his knee between her thighs he asks her, “¿Te gustaría sentir un poco de cada uno en el mundo dentro de ti?”
“Sí........ Dámelo”
Then, before the sun can light the morning, from her he tastes the bit of all the world that has been hers and is a part of her, and does not leave her until inside of her is a bit of all of the world that has been his and remained in him and he says to her, “Eso es mi vida. Eso es mi mundo.”
Now with her obsession for a connection filled, she is pleased with him and he departs knowing el hombre del sueño siempre puede regresar a cualquier hermosa truama con “ella” que le espera.
Cazado Ingles
Créditos Musicales
I'm Yours / Perfect Two (Jason Mraz, Auburn Mash-up Cover) - Madilyn Paige (feat. Royal Fire)
Por Una Cabeza (De "Perfume De Mujer")
Carlos Rivera - Si Te Vas (En Vivo)
Calm Down 🇮🇹 in ITALIANO (Stefano Germanotta) @heisrema @selenagomez
Shakira ft. El cata - Addicted to you Remix
The Beatles - Yesterday (Viva La Panda Remix) [Lyrics]
P!NK - BEAUTIFUL TRAUMA | LETRA EN INGLÉS Y ESPAÑOL