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Ironías

Volviendo a 2005...

Me gustaría poder pintarte.
Me gustaría trazar líneas con tantos colores
que dibujaran tus siluetas y cubrieran tus espacios.
Me gustaría tener el talento de juntar formas,
para describirte sin palabras,
para observarte todo el tiempo
y que algo de ti se quede conmigo
El vivo dorado del cabello
sería lo que resaltase en el cuadro;
seguiría con el tranquilo café de tus ojos,
y después el blanco de tu sonrisa
En mi cuadro te encontrarías con la imagen más viva de mi memoria.
Tu cabello caería por debajo de tus hombros
cubriendo tu vieja, aunque todavía viva, chamarra azul.
Del mismo color, cubriendo el resto de tu cuerpo,
una tela muy fina ceñida a tu figura
que terminaría en una mirada de perfil
perdida en alguna parte del espacio.
Y entonces con el cuadro terminado
con las luces en su lugar
y todos los elementos necesarios
sin flores ni paisajes… sólo tu figura llenando el espacio.
Cubriendo el tiempo, justo ahí
es dónde faltaría algo,
tu sonrisa no reflejaría nada,
tus palabras no las escucharía el aire,
tu mirada no tendría estilo,
y tus manos serían tan frías como el invierno.
Entonces creo que entendería algo simple.
No necesito talento para pintarte,
necesito talento para estar contigo.

Parece irónico que en medio de la migración me encuentre el primer pedazo de memoria que tengo de ti. Si, no hubo publicado nada antes que refiriera a otra persona (believe it or not).
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