By: Nuria Domro
Ambrosia of mists is the exile to which you condemn me,
with no company but the rain of salt crystals,
leaving trails of drowned “I love you”,
in the drought of virgin kisses that dream about you.
Sonnets of thousands of constellations of stars are poured
sparkling, when you play your piano, between each note,
leaving dazzling moons in my inert and broken nights
sewn with the echoes of your absence that never sleeps.
I will challenge your evenings filled with silence and forgetfulness
anchoring sunrises of an endless and impregnated verses
by a sublime and unfeigned love.
I know many women will say you “I love you”every day
but none of these ” I love you” has the blood of these verses
or the eternity of this poetry.
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