The beauty of my spotless eyes.

(Self-portrait)

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.