Your love also helps me: is a closed flower which increasingly fills me with its aroma and which opens suddenly within me as a big star. Love mine, is at night. Black water, the sleeping world, around me. It will come then the aurora, and I Meanwhile I’m writing to tell you: ‘I love you’. To tell you ‘I love you’, cared for, clean, lifts, it defends our love, my soul. I leave you as if you left a handful of Earth with seeds. Lives will be born of our love. In our love drink water.
Maybe a day will come in which a man and woman, equal to us, they will touch this love, and it will even force to burn the hands that touch it. Who went? What does it matter? They will touch this fire and fire, sweet mine, you will tell your simple name and mine, the name alone you knew because you alone on Earth know who I am, and nobody knew me as one, as one of your hands, because no one knew how, or when my heart was burning: just your big brown eyes knew ityour wide mouth, your skin, your breasts, your belly, your bowels and the soul of yours that I woke up so that he would be singing until the end of life. Love, you hope. Goodbye, love, you hope. Love, love, I hope. And so this letter is completed without any sadness: my feet on the ground are tight, my hand writes this letter in the road, and in the midst of life I’ll be always next to the friend, facing the enemy, with your name in the mouth and a kiss that never departed from yours. Original author and source of the article.