The night has lit its bonfires, a welcome, a clamor of memories,
and in it I am again after a fleeting visit to your radiant face.
I recognize the place of everything, nothing has changed on the threshold of darkness
that I haven’t touched with the fire of the naked skin of tears.
I walk firmly through the familiar haunts of feeling; I go toward the domes,
toward the silence of the bells to unleash a prayer.
Behind the windows, the embers of the day give off an aroma of burnt sunflowers;
the children were plucking the petals of dawn and now, enveloped in dew,
they have a peaceful sleep.
The adults and their longings hide in the scars of the pillows; it is the hour when silence treats us all equally, but I am not tired of dreams;
The clear night, like a waterfall pouring from a secret, hidden corner of the universe, invites me to yearn and follow the stealthy steps of the fish beneath the river’s darkness.
I go toward the domes, toward the flaming cross adorned with roses that points the way; but burning faces stalk me like a recounting of stories,
of offerings consumed at the feet of my shadow, my shadow of an imaginary deity.
I have forgotten everything except your face, your face minted on the coin that leaped from my sleeve in a deathly shudder; your face that falls and rolls silently with a Saturnian rhythm, searching the forgotten wells of my memory.
You fall and roll with the pulse of a planet that slowly settles in and dissolves time itself.
Judgment Day has arrived for me, and now I know nothing but how to search for the child who hides behind the constructed gaze.
To love or not to love, that is the question.
Perhaps tomorrow you will not be here, and having revealed yourself will be nothing more than having touched once more the soul
of the wound.
I quicken my pace, overflowing with prayers to the very edges of my eyes,
and the high vaults of the bell tower await.
I hasten with the ashes of my heart wrapped in silk, that heart that gave its all.
In the place of absence, echoes of names expand and murmur,
bones of ghosts pile up, and the song that has grown small within me.
Even so, I hasten; in the heights of desire awaits the angel who has emerged from a crack in the moon,
the sentinel of the night’s labor. I accelerate even though the emptiness in my hands weighs me down, even though I still feel the
limbs of love stirring in my chest, and thinking of you, my breath catches in my throat
as if you were a new region beginning to be born within me.
I have arrived, I am on the last step beside the lights that grow
and intensify until they encompass their entirety.
I have conquered the fear of heights, I have navigated the infinite space of this long night
recognizing the blessings of its abyss.
With a precipice in my eyes and in my hands, I claim the piece of fire that is mine,
the star the size of my joy and my lament, the exact magnitude of that profound word
that I have rescued from the destroyed dictionary of days.
I have navigated the blue and crystalline certainty of fear, and with the promise of light, I have stepped
firmly into the chasms of your unexpected presence.
There are portions of clarity in you that seek me out; And I want you to know that even if you leave
You are already inside like a burning mountain that reveals the sea to me,
like a lightning bolt that reveals the path to the forge where I used to carefully
craft love.
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