Ir al contenido principal

The last time I saw you

The last time I saw you we were normal. You were covered by flowers and made of apple rings.

Your skin was the projection of incredible adventures and in your eyes lived all the joy you were always needed to live. The smile was infinite and always mysterious.

The last time I saw you we were nothing, we were beginning the fight against the universe, and we were defeated that time.

We had no more projections than tomorrow, and we were not tied than by the morning messages that made your distracting smiles, that forced my creativity to the limits.

The last time I saw you I saw my dreams in French, my relentless thoughts in English, my curiosity about how much you can achieve in the Spanish we always explored.

I like your ideas in three languages, I loved your feelings in one unique sensation.

That time was full of surprises and emotions, but everything erased by the now. The last time I saw you were the first time I didn't understand the world.

The last time I saw you I don't even remember it. It's printed in some pictures and saved in the middle of nowhere. It's stored in two digital pictures, it has disappeared in the inscription of no memories. But it's not a special day. It's not an issue anymore.

What would it happen if I would see you one more time? What if I could count on you if I could show you the amazing man I think I am now. What if you would meet the fantastic people I have known in all these years. What if I could listen to your life in French and talk about mine in German.

The last time I saw you I wasn't aware you will go forever to never see me again...


Comentarios

Entradas populares de este blog

Mono blanco en la nieve

He despertado con la misma ansiedad de cada mes.  Atrapado en la misma botella. Estoy cubierto, estoy desnudo, no importa. Conozco ahora la rutina sobrevivir a lo que hay afuera, aunque nunca vaya a salir. No hay diferencia o distancia, cuan grande o pequeño sea el camino. Sigo siendo un momento, una señal, un punto. Le he ganado al tiempo y me muevo despacio. Despertar al alma sería imperdonable, pero hago el suficiente ruido para que sepa que sigo siendo yo. Sólo por hoy en un momento, en un señal en un punto. Sigo siendo yo. Un mono blanco en la nieve  

I cannot write about you

My mind is blocked when I'm writing a word on you. There's no reason, no bad feeling, no pain, but I know the appropriation is mine. Your memories are mine; I don't want even share them with my writing. The memories of you are apart from the world; they are far away. They don't live in the fire, and the passion of handwriting but they live there, enough, permanent. I know, however, you're made of all of the elements. The fire lives on you but is calm and shiny, comforting, balanced. I've been heating by those flames so many times that I got used to getting burned. I'm used to your water also. Patient and infinite, wise and eternal. Full of life but wild and destructive. I've been drinking for a long time but I'm always thirsty.  I've also seen the passion, and the wild wind, but I'd better like to remember the soft touch of your hands in my hands. You are the elements together, and the perfection of someone I've renounced and I'm not ...

Efectos

He decidido que no puedo. Me declaro incompetente para luchar contra esto. No puedo con esos horribles efectos que produce tu ser en mi. No puedo con toda la admiración que me provoca tu generosidad, me es imposible lidiar con eso y no caer rendido a tus pies con algo que para ti es tan natural. No puedo con estas irrefrenables ganas de abrazarte cuando eres espontánea, y no quiero dejar ni un segundo de ver todos los efectos que la vida tiene en ti. No puedo con tus ojos brillando aquí y allá ni con esa sonrisa que llena la nada tan de repente. No puedo con tu maravillosa imagen a contra luz iluminando todo. Eres vida, eres magia, eres libertad. No puedo tampoco con tu mala simulación, me provoca tanta ternura que seas la peor actriz del mundo, porque tu cara está llena de emociones. No puedo con toda esa belleza que consideras simple, pero que sabes utilizar como tu arma más letal. Me muero antes de tener que dejar de disfrutar de tu inteligencia, esa que hace que toda la magia s...