(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.
