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Another night dressed in the flames of the sunsets. Another night the heart has so much to tell you, yet, the words are out-shined by your heart beat. I can’t break the silence, I am spellbound in my dreams and all I could think about is …

Words,
beautiful words,
red wine adagio,
letter after letter
even the violins admire you.
You taste of moonlight
when I spell you out.
You are that forever
nocturnal perfume
making the paper blush,
the pen dry out of ink in awe.
In your texture
the sunrise leans
into someone’s ocean eyes,
the evening climbs
to every stranger’s heart.
You wrap castles in clouds and
piano sounds, you shelter
first love and sorrow.

Words,
clandestine words,
from lips to lips,
from just a simple inspiration
to a perfect poem,
you astound stars and city lights.
And I, the drifting poet without a muse,
bow, embracing you and the world in
every human victory,
every gentle touch,
every waterfall or river
that never fades into the distance and
never lets the shadows to stain your glory.

You describe forests and jungles,
snow and sand footsteps.
You hold the meaning
of the golden skies tonight,
of the thirsty flowers under raindrops,
of the emerald sparkles
in the eyes looking at me right now.
And in the naked solitude
of this complicated universe,
in the intimate secrets of life as it is,
everything begins and ends with you-
words, beautiful words- I love you.

After Pablo Neruda

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© 2015, B. T., All rights reserved

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