Tu…..Mi Florentino

never was I a romantic,

for I only read those in books,

but my love…the moment I saw you

under the almond tree..pretending to

read just to have a glimpse of me,

my spirit went on a high, as I examine you

a shy thing, lacking exuberance and air

of arrogance like my father but real and

kind and burning…with things I only

heard from my aunt…. a red emotion

so flattering to any woman,

every night she goes to bed, she

wouldn’t think of anything more but to

be forever devoted to God and to the saints

and sail with the angels in dreams with

that man who made her his world…

And as I accepted your affections,

I loved you like I never loved anything before,

more than the air I breathe, nor my father’s riches

the silver platter I always have, nor my long locks

that created my stunning glory,

for I saw in you what I never saw in any other man,

a quiet soul but a loud writer…

with novels and poetry for me underneath a rock in

the chapel… beside the bench on our courtyard,

you bestowed upon me veils and veils of words,

of thoughts you could only say to your wife…

Once you stood outside my window,

and played me the lullaby you created out

of your passionate love for me,

that gave me warmth and an embrace so tender

that I’m afraid father would find you and

tear your hands apart… so

you used the wind to cradle me at night…

mi amor, I know,

fate wasn’t as kind as it seems,

we’re star-crossed lovers in

a small village in this haunted columbia,

but for me, I shall never despise this place,

even if cholera would strike again,

in this wretched place,

It would always depict your face…your

determination to have me,

with the house your mama made for us…

for every letter and every cobblestone,

I shall always remember you…

even after death…

 

And if fate won’t give in, and I

shall be with someone else,

remember that you own me body and soul,

and I shall live in misery for you have

my heart bleeding only for your words…

only for you…

 

ti amo…

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When I Was Young, I Started Writing Poetry: “Desired Trance”

 

 

 

How my soul desired your thoughts…

How my heart desired your voice…

How my hands desired your touch….

But just a mere desire cannot express more…

 

How I hoped for you to take a glimpse…

How I hoped the air to mail my kiss….

How I hoped my eyes that gaze at you can cease….

But just a mere hope cannot ask for more….

 

How? How can I desire to hope you?

How can I hope to desire you?

When the depths of my soul can reach beyond,

Far beyond my internal universe

 

Grasping the star that’s next to the horizon,

Sunset that swims the creases of the seas,

The shadow of the moon suddenly hollows,

And the words in your palms started to rise

 

Your lips defeated the crimson of roses,

Your modest cheeks speak of the heavens,

A smile that captured a thousand mornings,

A frown that can relive the dead of night

 

 How can I not desire you, my dear?

 When the pleasures of the world you fought?

And the sheet of euphoria covers you whole?

It is I that made this delusion a trance…

 

How can I not hope for you, my dear?

When you’re the rain in my drought,

Even the tempest can seek its peace,

Kneeling and crying its heart at your feet

 

Desire to hope is a hope to desire….

And everything else stays the same…

Your smile is a smile, and your voice is a song,

The world never did stop turning, the phase of life never did go wrong.

 

As for me I’ll smile and cry and breathe,

And wait for you in the morning,

Ill live, I’ll sing and I’ll wait

A  simple lullaby to your night.