The Distance Keeps Me From Kissing You But Not From Loving You With All My Strength
I do not want to forget the times we have tried to calculate together how far the distance was between us. I do not want to forget the times we spent playing even though we were older when we met and with enough infatuations to win our hearts over every day, forever. I’ll remember how much I liked to pester you. I also remember I covered you in kisses so that you couldn’t breathe.
I confess that there are times when I can’t stand you being so far. But they are moments that I would not erase because I understand that in this sweet pain of not being able to change you also exists, much in fact, that I’m in love.
Butterflies that turn into tickles
Poets speak of butterflies; they know little about us. I think they are more like tickles, like the ones I give you when I don’t know of any other way to calm you down (and, between us, also when I feel like it). And you let me, and I smile because during those moments I feel like the master of time. Of your time, because you remain still; except for your lips that lazily and mischievously stretch to smile.
We’ve been through difficulties. There have been times when it seemed that we could take over the world. Like us, we have invented and we have believed it. Okay, you may tell me that we are not as elegant, but that you also agree that we are more brave.
I do not want to forget a second of our history
I do not want to forget a second of our history because, thanks to my memory, I carry you with me now that the distance separates us. It is true that songs, images and lost phrases written in the dim light of a bar at dawn help me. But without the memory I would not be able to tie it all together.
At one moment you will enter that door. And I’ll stop tinkering in the trunk of my memory to invite you to create new memories. With the idea of “just in case we ever forget” I’ll live every moment with you, even if it is missing you.
I’ll start asking for the price of that kiss that worried that romantic poet so much. Then you’ll cover your eyes and I’ll write on your body, letter by letter, what I don’t want you to forget.
There will come a time when you feel that I’m going slowly, but remember how they wrote in the Middle Ages. With those feathers that went from paper to ink, testing the ability of the one holding it. Wait, give me one second to stop myself in this image because it makes me laugh that in the movies they rarely show how the papyrus got smudged with ink.
I will continue but I will not do it like these directors. I will put the good and the bad in the script, the godly and the the ungodly, the joy and sadness because of all we have left is the horizon. Why? Because the road is very long and I want to travel it with you…
Fall In Love With Yourself and Life, Then Do It With The One You Love
If love were a tree, the roots would be your own love. The more you love yourself, the more fruits your love would give to others… See more »