By Eddy Montilla.
Today, I had a burning desire to write something for you
with cut-glass verses, as if I were a poet
to tell you that I am happier now…
To tell you that sad winds cannot reach my lintel any more,
to tell you that the sparkle of love in your eyes
knocks at the door of my soul every morning.
However, mornings are not my fondest memories,
but that balmy summer evening at dusk.
Now it is my medicine for my sleepless nights,
my galleon laden with treasure, my coveted dream.
I modeled my thoughts, you modeled the clay
with innocent expression, with tender look,
with the smile of a girl who only wants to be happy,
and the little bird that from your hands came to life
alighted on mine every summer evening.
A lot of things are different since then…
The walls of my door are painted with your name,
cypresses are more cheerful
and the wind sighs in them.
You make our lives more beautiful
like wallflowers do in late spring.
Now we are happily prisoners of the way you are.
Yes. Today, I had a burning desire to tell you something…
To tell you, for example, that I don’t know what to say.
To tell you, perhaps, that you are my love litany prayed to my heart,
a lark that sings at dawn.
To tell you that your beauty flies in the days of my nights
like butterflies do through my mind.
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