Letter to a lover
“I’m sorry, dear companion … Our tortuous paths separate here, while recognizing your splendor and bravery. I have my heart ready for battle and I confess to be prudent tear yourself of my treadmill, because I do not want to call you my lord, and, in return, receive caressing words and incantations inveigle me the ball of your love. I’m a rebel, and I myself am the exile of empty spaces where the north and west winds are companions. I run away from you and a dream of a golden age where everyone will be blessed. I don’t want to close my eyes to love and to the splendor of imaginative fantasy. My soul is wild and unknown to shame, but worship in thee fair and indomitable truth, your universal nature. Do not want to forgive me. I wish to be just a kid looking for a stone in the immensity of the abyss. ”
Yes, my love. Am I fine? Not really. I am exhausted, from up and down the chilly mountain of sacrifice, being bitten by the outcasts, in a creeping but well-aimed way. Not for anything. Nothing I hope. I’m like a bird that waits for the wind to go to South, but which, having waited so much, its remiges faded away. Now, at this stage lunar crescent, he just keeps the wings open to the sun and the wind. Courageous? Maybe. Integrated? … Hum … No. I never have been. I always wanted to tread the earth with my feet and kiss the birds freed with curved, sharp and robust beak with my kisses with a flavor of the solar foam. I am different, but now I know that I’m gradually being materially disintegrated, returning to the white robe that one day will cover my bones. You can be happy for me. There is no one who has had such a great love for you. But, be sure. Nobody can replace me. I will stay forever in your soul like a void, a cosmic void where all your fantasies will have a stage…
Am I transparent? I don’t want to be transparent. Transparent water is for the comfort of the traveler. I’m just translucent, I have stories to tell that muddy the endless pains that made of me who I am.