Tell me you don't want me to love you, that I won't.
Tell me, you don't want to be in my heart and I will swear to uncover my veins every day, to drain any trace of you within me. If that means being empty.
Tell me you don't want me to love you, that I will too
I assure!
But don't ask me to get you out of my thoughts. Because I will not have the sanity to write so subtly the good, the beautiful and the sublime of your being. Put your imperfections on paper, take every detail of you and portray it in letters.
Because I can highlight the points so intensely on the leaves, if I can be guided by your freckles that travel with harmony and freedom the snowy plain of your skin.
Why put each comma in the onomatopoeia to give it a sound that resembles your laugh, if I can contemplate the visible indentations every time you smile.
Why use admiration and exclamation, if I can be surprised in an insightful way of your intelligence, your beauty retouched with simplicity.
Or wonder if I am worthy of so much splendor and many more qualities forged in a single person.

Don't ask me to stop dreaming about you. That is why I wait for the nights to meet you, it is there where you are my day, my sunrises, sunsets, every breath of wind that breaks the mountains. It is there where you are everything and nothing, much and little, up and down, edge and center.
You are the revelation that clouds my memory.
And the confidentiality of my life.
Tell me that you do not want to exist for me, that I will survive with your memories.
© Luismar Soto