tu mejor derrame cerebral: el lunar

miércoles, 31 de agosto de 2011

el lunar

que marca cuan cerca estás de tenerme, está cada vez más tapado, más escondido.

En esta instancia ni garpa tener algo lejano, distante.

Te quiero conmigo, como a mi lunar.

20 vidas hubiera yo tardado en contar los lunares de su espalda

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Once upon a time in China, some believe around the year one double-ought three, head priest of the White Lotus Clan, Pai Mei, was walking down the road – contemplating whatever it is that a man of Pai Mei's infinite powers would contemplate (which is another way of saying, "who knows?") – when a Shaolin monk appeared on the road, traveling in the opposite direction. As the monk and the priest crossed paths, Pai Mei, in a practically unfathomable display of generosity, gave the monk the slightest of nods. The nod was not returned.

Now, was it the intention of the Shaolin monk to insult Pai Mei? Or did he just fail to see the generous social gesture? The motives of the monk remain unknown. What is known were the consequences.

The next morning Pai Mei appeared at the Shaolin Temple and demanded of the Temple's head abbot that he offer Pai Mei his neck to repay the insult. The Abbot at first tried to console Pai Mei, only to find Pai Mei was … inconsolable.

So began the massacre of the Shaolin Temple and all sixty of the monks inside at the fists of the White Lotus. And so began the legend of Pai Mei's five-point-palm-exploding-heart technique.