I like your smile because it’s like an elastic acrobat who has overcome all the obstacles of time, and in this distance between us, it keeps me on the edge of my seat.
Will it fall or will it continue performing other somersaults?
Like all the smiles of children who don’t age, it retains that mischievous joy of accomplishment that helps me see the passing days like a pill that slowly numbs the pain with its doses of sunsets dappled over a field of mushrooms.
I won’t deny it, your smile has something psychedelic about it, something of a surreal vision that lingers in the dark circles under your eyes like a symbol; it has something of an incredible and courageous dream that intervenes
in reality.
I like its breadth, showing all its teeth without shame, its teeth shining like a child amazed to have seen a line of giraffes pass through the eye of a needle. I love that she’s like a smiling, humid night waiting behind the window,
and marveling at the bridges the moon builds between your thoughts and a swan.
I love her spontaneity, her sure steps sinking into the sea of life without the ambition of a competitive man, but of a god who knows when each event fits.
And I love even more her stealthy rhythm with which she seeks a waiting room in my gaze,
and there she scamperes, patiently knocking on every door.
I love her whiteness, like a polished and restored star, like the purring of a contented and watchful cat behind my windows; her ability to multiply in every corner of the sky like an
abundant fountain of dreams.
But above all, I love that from being just one among millions, she is now very much mine in a secret and unique way when I imagine cradling her in my chest like a growing, orgasmic roar,
that slowly, like a bird learning to fly, she goes from me to you
to make your face even brighter, and all that mysteriousness that you are beginning to be for me.
Impactos: 0