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The night bears witness that tonight I can’t sleep because of you, and this sleeplessness feels eternal. I miss your voice, your eyes, your smile, everything. Because today is the day I must think about confessing what I feel, so tomorrow I can tell you, even if exhaustion is not on my side. Just one smile from you would be enough for the sun to rise over my eyes. It will be an unforgettable moment, even if it costs me a refusal, even if you never look at me again or I fall even more in love with you.
It will be the eternal pleasure of contemplating you, a fantasy that will never end, because as I write this, I miss you. I tremble, and the night is not over yet. And where are you? Maybe sleeping, maybe watching the moon like I’ve seen it sometimes, longing for your presence. That would evoke your memory, and I would fall more in love with you.
I feel like the air in my room imagines itself to be one of your sighs or those warm breaths when you were by my side, and I feel like you are present while I long to care for you, asleep in my arms, as I kiss your forehead and my soul screams that it loves you, but you hear nothing. And still, I fall more in love with you.
Could the love I have for you be so immense that my heart is willing to risk everything with just one beat? But in the midst of so many hallucinations, I forgot that I’m only writing, that I’m only imagining you, that you’re not here, that you’re not sleeping beside me, and maybe it’s madness to keep doing this, even if it costs me a refusal or makes me fall more in love with you.
Thank you for reading my poems.
The poet without fountain pen.
La noche es testigo que hoy por ti no duermo y el desvelo se hace eterno
me falta tu voz, tus ojitos, tu sonrisa, todo.
Porque es hoy el día en que debo pensar en confesarte lo que siento
para mañana decírtelo aunque el cansancio no este a mi favor.
Sólo bastaría una sonrisa tuya para que el sol salte sobre mis ojos,
será un momento inolvidable aunque me cueste la negativa, aunque ya no me mires mas o me enamore mas de ti.
Sera el placer eterno de contemplarte una fantasía que nunca acabara,
porque al escribirte esto me faltas, me estremezco y la noche aun no acaba.
¿Y tu donde estarás? tal vez durmiendo, talvez viendo la luna como yo algunas veces la he visto añorando tu presencia, eso evocaba tu recuerdo y me enamoraba mas de ti.
Siento que el aire en mi cuarto imagina ser un suspiro tuyo o esos respiros cálidos cuando estabas a mi lado, y así siento que estas presente mientras yo con ganas de cuidarte dormida entre mis brazos mientras te doy un beso en la frente y mi alma gritando que te ama pero tu no escuchas nada, y aun así me enamoro mas de ti.
Podrá ser tan grande el amor que te tengo tanto así que mi corazón se puede jugar la vida con solo un latido pero entre tantas alucinaciones me olvide que solo estoy escribiendo, que solo te estoy imaginando, que no estas presente, que no duermes a mi lado, y talvez sea una locura seguir haciéndolo aunque me cueste la negativa o me enamore mas de ti.
Gracias por leerme.
El poeta sin pluma.
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