Lovers look at each other from different
platforms, they talk in a new language, they introduce words of their own in
that new language and they hope to be understood. Lovers stand on different
ends of the same river, water flows in their body like blood, and when they
hold hands every resource of water gets back to its origin. Lovers are made of differences,
they soon fall short of words. Lovers are lonely beings trying to communicate,
to express and give what they think it’s the best of them. Lovers are creative,
destructive and hopeful. Lovers have passion and they unveil their desire as
water awakens a sleepy seed in a dry forest. Lovers open up their minds and
soul by the touch of their hands, they perceive the unspeakable, the feeling of
being a whole. They are the center of the universe, the only source of water,
light itself, pure fire, life and destruction. But lovers remain at distant
places, unable to stand on the same ground without dissolving themselves,
unable to keep their identities as they approach each other.
Tuve suerte de conocerte, de escucharte, de hablarte. Tengo la fortuna de sentirme querida por ti y el privilegio de todos nuestros recuerdos. Te llevas parte de mi Ya no encontraré refugio en la niña que fui Me dejas llena de huecos de ti No sostendré más tu mano Ni te abrazaré más Nadie más me dirá "Nena" Formas parte de mi vida adulta De mi manera de querer a la familia Me dejas tu carino y tu luz Te quiero Te querré siempre Y sólo soy una habitante más de tu inmenso corazón
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