Saturday, 1 March 2014

The beauty of my spotless eyes.


My mind tiptoes into assaulting memories. 

I hide my words and bite my tongue. 

(Remembering like this needs silence). 

But my hands take a life of their own, 
they dance with my stubborn heartbeat, 
and scratch blank pages with vivid dreams. 

Those precious moments that are just gone, 
almost unannounced: 

To love, to cry, 
to win, to lose, 
to surrender to beauty 
as it becomes the pupils 
of my sad eyes. 

But oh, 

how could I not be grateful 
for having lived so many dreams? 
in company, in solitude, 
with lovers, with strangers, 
with you, my love, 
my sweet friend? 

Do you remember how 
I loved you, how I cried with you, 
won you once, was stubborn, 
and then surrendered? 

I lost you. 

Still, your beauty is all 
my spotless eyes see, 
without ever shedding a tear 
nor a single shadow 

of regret.

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