Last Love Poems: April 13

By Eddy Montilla.


If you were not you and I were not I,

if you were not my peace and I were not your confusion,

I would tell you what I feel, and perhaps, what I think…

I’d tell you that my body shudders with your presence

and my voice turns into silence.

I’d tell you that reality controls my desire

even though what I desire is other reality,

a piece of reality where we can walk along the seashore,

where we can pick daisies up every April 13

or just sit down on the grass of a prairie,

talking about everything, talking about nothing

in a world made of illusions where all is true,

where rivers sing, the wind walks

and butterflies repeat your name without cease.

If you were not real and I were not so imaginary,

if I were not a shadow life that dies with the dawn

and you the dawn that comes to life,

perhaps I would not have to live with this bitter past at my side,

with a glass of wine every April 13.

I could forget the nights sitting on the bench,

your shoulder and my shoulder taking shelter from the cold.

When you are present, I want to see you,

when you are absent, I want to see you more.

On every April 13,

I realize what you mean for me…

A rainbow of love, a linked heart that cries for freedom,

a fresh smile, tender eyes,

a lake, still and serene in the sunlight,

half of my life even though you have already my other side.

Copyright 2015 All rights are reserved.


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