Spaceship

You were my reason to learn German... since the first time I needed it. I needed to tell you so much, and I needed to understand what you say in your sweet voice. And every time was more challenging. The firsts times I just needed few words, then more.  Then I stopped to think all I wanted to tell you. Then you smiled. It was impossible not to see you, your eyes bright, your style different every time. I memorised the routine the first time, just wait, ask, sit and let the happiness happen. I got the advantages of the client, and I needed to see you. Then I memorised your forms, and you were skinny, you always had a strong perfume, you were more than perfect. Then I saw your name! Lost there, just by mistake, while in my head were running thousands of questions in the best version of German, the one of my head. It is sad I could not find any other reason to see you more often, it would have been bizarre. Every time I came back all the routine, sit here, move there, admire you...

You reflect, it’s you and not the light. That’s a lie of physics. You reflect, and you remain there... beautiful, concentrated. You reveal the clear and the dark, you reflect on the ice living in your eyes. You reflect the clearness of your hair. You reflect the portrait of the woman. You indicate the intermittences of the road. You reflect brightness and darkness, you appear and disappear at times. You reflect peace doesn’t matter it’s 200 kms outside. And then you look at the reflection, and then you use the power of your eyes, and then you shine.

It's the happiest 18 minutes, in your stories, It's the funniest moments in your eyes, It's the most profound times next to you, It's the elegance of the way you walk. It's just a coincidence, and it's only this time, It's just finding you while running, It's just stopping and breathing, It's just laughing at loud. It's just hugging you on the road, It's just waiting for the next stop, It's just a kiss of goodbye, It's something I needed the most. It was just the happy time, It was only clarity of your eyes, It was just how much you changed, It was just 18 minutes of March.

And if I give you the chance to understand, How can it change the script! If I give you the chance to understand, maybe you can listen to me. The chance to understand is the way to be open. If I explain to you how I think, I might not be alone in my head. If I give you the right words  The story will come to an end. It is maybe you are listening.  It is maybe the world is not deaf. But it is maybe I'm not clear. It is the message in the wrong way. How will I confuse you then? How will make a shelf for me? How will I protect myself? If   It is my completely clear to go away. There's no need to discover something. There's no need to have all clear. If the message is there, There's more chance to understand. 

En primavera todo marcha corazón esperanzado. Todo marcha con flores y con viento, todo marcha y se pone nuevo. Todo marcha corazón mientras nos comen las tinieblas y todo marcha en medio de tus recuerdos.  Todo marcha cuando no encuentras, cuando no entiendes, cuando no miras todo marcha. Todo marcha en el abismo y el sol quema pero se marcha, y la luna se extingue y vuelve, y también se marcha.  Todo marcha en espacios libres, en momentos inciertos. Todo marcha en la siguiente avenida de la vida, todo el universo marcha. Porque el tiempo has dicho tú no es más que el mero transcurrir de la vida.  Todo va lejos en los sonidos, todo parece feliz en el silencio. Todo va corazón! Todo marcha

It is the same place, the same corner, maybe the middle of the street. How do you overlap your memories? How to choose what the good one is? In the same place happened so many things, you were angry, you were happy, you were bored. With the same words you remember so many circumstances. In the same place there are mixed moments, torments, hopes. You are enabled to put a mark in the same sites every time you walk in there, every time you move your eyes. How to erase the bad ones?  The problems of the photographic memory. 

Mi morenita tiene los ojos grandes, vivos. En ellos viven luceros eternos, estrellas fugaces. En sus pupilas se cuentan historias increíbles, surgen aventuras interminables. Mi morenita vive con el cabello negro, largo. Con la mentira del color natural y la vanidad del tinte azabache 24 de cada mes. En el tratamiento viven las caricias que le llegan a la espalda, la orzuela es el enemigo mortal. Mi morenita odia peinarse. Lo hace una vez al día como el peor momento de las mañanas. Camina enojada hasta el espejo, se mira aún con cara de sueño y luego toma su cabello para amarrarlo, deja escapar un par de pelillos rebeldes y se mira satisfecha por el error. Mi morenita tiene la sonrisa enorme, los hoyuelos junto a los labios y el carmín por todo alrededor. Entiende de brillo y del poder que vive en el rojo número 14. Mi morenita refleja la elegancia en esa nariz perfecta, amarrada a su cara cual pieza de lego de colección, adornada de cada lado por unas mejillas chispeantes de alegrías y...

I saw the window where we changed our souls. I remember it's what I said the first time you asked what happened. We just switched our souls, I said. Things are strange, but they look like the same. However, memories are always making them different. There was the echo of your laugh in the corridor, and the glass was opaque in the part we were talking for a long time.  The heating gave me the idea of your breath so close to my face. The shine of the windows was equal, but they are entirely different now. It is rare too, but some of them reflect your long black hair. Some others have the colours of that night.  I saw the forms of your waist in another one, and maybe in the corner the earrings you lost that day. I saw everything clear in the windows now, like things never come back. 

Basta! Dices mientras te sonrojas. He ganado la batalla de hoy. La conversación sobre el clima nos ha llevado a algo, pienso mientras tú sigues preparando algo para comer.  Escucharte es divertido, es dulce. Sin pretensiones y sin miedos vas explicándome la vida, las arterias, los planes, el futuro. En mi canasta de futuro hay muchas cosas vacías, rotas, cosas que no llevan a ningún lugar, castillos dices tú mientras me miras tranquila.  Cada día eres más linda vuelvo a pensar, o no sé si lo digo, pero lo sabes. Sonríes para hacer más feliz el momento. No quieres hacer que esto se pueda terminar. Revuelves un poco más la leche, cambias las cosas de lugar.  Y yo miro tu reflejo en las ollas, te miro a contraluz y te miro mientras bebes de tu taza caliente, mientras abrazas con tus manos el calor que sale de ahí.  Hace frío! Repites. Cada día estás más linda, pienso de nuevo, seguro de no dejar escapar las palabras. Ven a la cama, dices de pronto. Te extraño mucho, dic...