Good evening reader. Readers.

As at some point, there might be more than one person reading simultaneously. Such a curious happening. Yet, it is not the matter that brought me to this empty page to be filled.

Emotions were. The sweetness of posting - as an act of sharing, an act of being vulnerable - entangled with some written emotions I wanted to translate.

Why do I share this? Because I believe we are all interconnected in some way - and a simple word can bring back courage, enlighten a mood, or create the necessary space to wonder in Life, instead of torment yourself.

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· BECOMING ·

You know, " to love " is so easy to say. 
So difficult to accomplish.
Has hecho frágiles los muros de roca ancestral.

There is no more poetry written as you surrender to the constant ever flowing whatever that is it meant to be.

Too conceptual. Abstract was lost in technology, as we could be becoming dots and lines never spoken. Never said. 

Always there. Scavenging for a strip that'll hold the Earth. Ours.

We were probably falling stars that stayed too attached to their small pieces igniting in the atmosphere. Born in the unseen Universe. Galaxy.

However that void is called nowadays. 

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· 08.37 · 

Moi je t'aime. 
J'ai envie de te faire l'amour avec les yeux, 

t'embrasser avec mes doigts, 

me perdre dans tes mots jusqu'au lever du Soleil. 

Pour lui montrer que le lumière brillait même avant son réveil.

Chuchotter à la Lune, qu'elle soit jalouse parce que mes mots,

ne sont plus à elle, mais à toi. 

Crier aux Zéphyrs d'emporter mes mots aux Sept Ciels et Sept Enfers, 

sachant qu'ils resteront à jamais gravés. 

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· YOU ·

The night wanted you. She cried loud enough, the Sun never rose. Her tears were still blurring the clouds. Your eyes. A magical playground where only your heart decides :

Is it a dragon or a sheep?

The man sculpting the sky had an issue.

His wife was giving birth. We could only wait for a sight. Run. Run. Run. Far from the ground. Your wings are magic, as I'm whimsical. Physical. And poetic.

Ethic was a fairytale for the warriors that would walk on mud and never go mad.

Ethic was a fairytale for the warriors that would offer their bodies through the spear of your might. Your Moon. My insecurity.

Ethic was a fairytale for the warriors that would believe in a banner. The one that belong to the other. I was just standing there, waiting for your eyes to pierce my heart.

Your name was forbidden to my mouth.

Your name was forbidden to my tongue.

Your name was forbidden to my thought.

Your name was forgotten to my soul.

Your name was forgotten to my know how.

You were the dream that paradise will never achieve. Hell is for us.

We would be a blazing light.

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Again and always, thank you for reading and I wish it has moved you in one way or another... all the ways are right, isn't it?