what if I never get tired of searching?
of feeling nostalgic?
(the emptiness full of your missing touch)
the traveling, the thoughtfulness.
the poems never to be read by your foreign eyes.
the amateur disguise.
my heart so big in size.
the face, ready to cry, ready to care
the wind, unaware.
the beginnings of new stories
the failures, once glories.
my infinite.
that ephemeral warmth your body carries.
that smile, that one. Keep still!
the lyrics to my life:
happiness is thankful to strife.
decorum forgotten,
I will scream what I feel
about you
in one of my many mute moonlight dreams.
Paulina Meza