trying to write loves

you fear in nothing past,
a piece of what you’ve been left to,
Something from a stack of images,
Once there, but now falling fast.
I’ll save the best to say, with the sweetest silence,
Only in darkness devine, in the feeling of face to side of face,
Escuchando la luna en tus sojos, prevando el oceano en tu corazon,
Sitting forever watching you birds fly,
Knowing only that you need a living freedom,
Tired, barely breathing here,
I find you in a window, in a wall that was a door once,

Stopped by Nothing but a true embrace, pain dying as it begins new,
With frayed ends like the love that mists the city overnight.
Madre luna, tus hijas y me estan dejando en pedazas
a paper soul is plenty, but shakes in the fire of your expectations.
Alone here, endlessly I’m remembering,
Smiles from the streets of dreams,
Drunken perfection of memories,
Sad regret of an empty touch.


The loneliness is not mine, only borrowed,
reminded of you in endless carbon copies,
In truth only acting, Trying to be your past,
Ending up sounding like distant conversations of strangers.
Please hold a thought of me still, as you’ve always been there,
Lying in a warm window of spring, so close,
the comfort in the thought of you, the quiet shared in twilight,
approaching in an empty corridor lit pale blue,
But never recognizable by these eyes,
Clouded By the dust of mistakes, but unbounded,
here for us, not by what we can have, but always had,
realized only when that day ends.
Know that I would gladly give my heart,
as you walk these corners, and this is how.