It is not the great human question, the body, the mind, the plot of stories or life.

No, it’s the details. As you move your hands or move the eye while you talk, the way in which the angle of the mouth leans sideways … The cleft between the upper lip and nose. These little things that do not seem to matter discrete but for me they are beautiful. And when I see you smile is a song. I do not know how you say it when you smile. It is hard to tell or maybe impossible. It is like falling snow. You cannot recount the noise, which is an imperceptible creak. You have a magic that I never imagined; the magic of small gestures. Of what you say and do not remain suspended in the air, as if by a kind of delicate skin sweats uncertainty. Life is now a big surprise. Nothing else. Life is what we do not know, is the exact moment you approach the lips of those who we love and kisses with a strangled sigh. That moment of uncertainty before the kiss, do you figure out how?

I stand to look at you in silence. I drink of your imperfect candor. I am so glad that you exist and I have learned so much from you. And, I think love is a decision, as in art, it is given the talent, designs a thing rather than another. By a screenplay to the story, life is a choice. When I saw the way that you moved, I decided that I would have loved you, anyway. I can say that my love is a kinesthetic.

There is a silence in your eyes that only the wind and the sky can understand, like when the sun is at sunset and lights your life seems to stop there. Crystallized. Imprisoned. Burning in the chest. You are the wind, the fire and the uncertainty of a moment that remains suspended between your lips and mine, the first kiss, the climax. You fire my life in mysterious details…. You make me live… ❣️