Our first kiss

I never knew if it was intended or a chance encounter of our lips. 

I remember kissing your ears, your neck, your cheek. Kissing your cheek closer and closer to the edge, to that limit that you had so well expressed as the heart and soul of Love. I remember feeling just the tip of your mouth and being irrestibly dragged even closer. Your kiss was always tender, your cupids bow intentional, an intention that streched to the tip of the lips. I remember a subtle lock, suddenly feeling your breath coming through into my lungs, penetrating my olfact. And I also held on to that lock. We moved almost in tandem to ensure the other would not let go. And when I realized, already our noses were touching, and there was no turning back.

I avidly tried to feel those lips I longed for, for so long. I felt you doing the same, timidly offering a bit of your tongue, and imediately grasping my upper lip. Breathing in, breathing out, tasting heaven, finally a full embrace.

We were then locked forever. And to this day, I do not know if, kissing your cheek, we felt that first lippie velvet touch on purpose, or by chance.

I dare say it was a purposefuly chance. And we both won.

To this day I regret

Too many absences. Too many wastes of time. Too many departures. Too many erasures. Too many failed attempts at showing care. 

Too few opportunities to Love, with no other thought than to Love you.

Wild heart

In the midst of the cold of a winter, when we were exchanging subtle messages in the form of songs, trying to get to know each other a little better after we had already realized a burning flame had struck us, I came across a video you published.

Let it go, it said.  As usual, I drank every single word, trying to understand the hidden meaning, but there was none. That meaning was crystaline, incisive, clear like the snow it alluded to.  A full heart in display, unleashed, untamed. With a wild, but natural realization: "test the limits and break through".

Because your beauty is raw and wild it contaminates your heart. Unrestricted. Unrestricted to Love. Unrestricted to overcome challenges. Unrestricted to explore all horizons that are deemed worthy. Unrestricted to survive in spite of all obstacles. 

Wild, but not in the wilderness. Wild with substance, with elegance, with stance. Wild to surprise (and how many times did you surprise me!), wild from that massive heart of yours.

I remember many moments. I remember feeling your heart. My hand in your chest at first, my head against your breasts soon after. And in those moments you would let me feel it. A thumping heart, warm, inviting, beating like a bird that sees from above. A heart that rejoiced. That could not but be free to choose, to fly, to Love.

A wild, strong heart. That could be shattered, but like a Lioness, would roar back.

A  Heart capable of breaking through. Undoubtedly wild, undoubtedly serene in all it's might and power.

When thou start forgetting me

Which memories might be treasured forever?

Serious mind

Mind is a linguistic pafernalia. In true, it is a serious attitude: rightneousness, moral and ethical spine are what actually matters. 

Serious not as in dull or grave. But rather as in Truth. Loyal. Rational. 

Serious as in keeping the time from slipping from our hands. 

Serious as in preempetively warning that not everything may be what it seems. 

Serious as in committed. 

Serious as in disagree, but still commit. 

Serious as in going all in: you are either in or out, no second guessing.

Serious as in the way you used to walk towards the train. Head held high. Steady pace. Devoted to the next objective. 

Your mind, your seriousness, underpins your true being. It gives leverage so the whole of you can reach new heights.

And it is the reason that every moment you'd decide to show what your seriousness really is all about - my, oh, my!

In another time and place

You'd be my Queen, we would have a small cottage by a stream, surrounded by trees, fields and mountains.

We'd walk hand in hand all journey long, and after dinner, you would read, I would play. You'd fall asleep with a book in your lap, I would softly carry you to your room, kiss you goodnight, and be grateful to be by your side.

Make my way back home

 When I learn to fly high

From when we were sharing things, and every other hour was about checking on whether you thought of me.

These days I am still checking every other hour, but in the void. And that's on me.

Breaking the silence.

Does it mean silence has been broken on that moment?

Or it's broken, shattered, and it should be no more?

We kissed at goodbye.

Wondering if you would kiss me at hello.

Thinking of your voice

Oh, this rain, it will continue through the morning as I'm listening

To the bells of the cathedral

I am thinking of your voice

And of the midnight picnic once upon a time before the rain began

And I finish up my coffee

And it's time to catch the train

 

Memories triggered: Waiting for you to come to me, through the rain, feeling silly for not being a true  gentleman. You entered the car soaked, and your smile wiped any remnant of doubt. I could see you happy, even with wet hair and clothes. Maybe even more so. Being together was enough. Making love was just the pinnacle of  all those moments of actual, pure and crystalline joy.

Through grainy photos

 You are so beautiful, heart and soul, it hurts to miss you. 

When our wings are cut, can we still fly?