Amarte

Amarte es quererte
Libre
Amarte es desearte
Feliz
Amarte es tenerte
Contenta
Amarte es besarte
sin fin.

We don’t move on from grief

You will never be in the past tense
Even when I move away
From the places we called home.

You will never be in the past tense
When it has been over a year
or I have found love once more.

You will never be in the past tense,
while I'm out drinking with friends
and I no longer feel alone.

You will never be in the past tense
when tears fill my eyes
and I blink trying to let go

Time tends to erase our past
so you will always be "is"
and never ever "was".


Inspired by Nora McInerny's TED talk on grief

Paddle boat

I had a swing at you with the paddle,
and you splashed into the blue
no cork or wood to hang on to
nothing to help you reach shore.

I wish I hadn't done that
but really you gave me no choice,
you were sabotaging my sailing
by drilling holes in my hull.

Every time you said you would stop
and to prove that you were trying
you swapped your drills for matchsticks
that is not something worth dying.

So my sneaky little passenger
all rides were sweeter with you
but we'll have more chance of survival
if we don´t share this boat anymore.

Las ganas que tengo

Tu no sabes las ganas que tengo
de correr a buscarte
y gritarte que no tiene sentido
que durmamos solos esta noche,
que nada tiene más sentido que tu y yo
que hoy no quiero a nadie más que ti
y mañana ya dejaremos a la vida seguir

Infinite universes

There's a version of our universe
in which not only we haven't met
but also we'll never meet.
Can you imagine a variant of you
that hasn't memorized the shape of my lips?

Desperate

This will not make a good poem
It's a short story that I tell myself
when I need to be convinced
that I don't really need you.

The words I need to scream
to stop scrolling through your photos
to stop playing that sad song
to stop reading through your poems.

This is my desperate cry to be healthy
and finally let go of your memories
instead of grasping at them
as if they could save me in any way.

I want you

I want your lips
to run down my body
and discover mine.

I want your voice
to tell me those stories
that teleport my mind.

I want your hands
to find their way through me
and never find their way out.

December

Your body is a hearth
Craved warmth in the coldest night
The beating of your heart
Calms my anxious mind.
Since your lips
found their place
in the warmth of my skin
they haven't felt at home anywhere else.

anticlimactic

I'd like to narrate how we stood under the night sky
embraced by the cold air and  the star light
but as pen glides through paper, ready to start,
words elude me, slip through my grasp.
I'd like to describe how I held your hand,
how I pulled you close, dared your lips, and grazed your arms,
but resisted the urge to give in to desire.
But that would disappoint every reader,
who, expecting action and romance,
sex, sweat and passion,
would be left feeling empty,
lacking progression,
crescendo,
or climax.
I can't put into words what made it feel so intense
what made my breathing go faster, 
what was I hoping would never end?
What we did and didn't do, the specifics do not matter
it's how I felt being with you, how it made everything better.

Déjame

Déjame recorrer tu mejilla con mis labios
Besarte la oreja y morderte el cuello
Déjame perderme entre estos brazos
Que se aventuran a descubrir mi cuerpo.

Déjame sentir el calor de tu aliento
Al reposar tu cabeza en en mi hombro
Dejemos que el tiempo pase lento
Mientras nos ahogamos el uno en el otro.

Déjame buscarte en la oscuridad
mientras mi respiración se ralentiza
Déjame dejarme llevar
cuando desaparece nuestra prisa.

Déjame quedarme un ratito más
disfrutando del placer de tenerte
no quiero volver a la realidad
y a la incesante sed de volver a verte.