Month: January 2024

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Embrace the strength of your own warmth

beatrizesmer

Remember how your mother kept her bones warm on nights when your father was far away. She wrapped herself in the comfort of her own strength, refusing to let the chill of loneliness seep into her bones. Do not love a man who keeps you clinging to the pillow for too many nights, yearning for his presence to fill the void in your heart. Stay away from men who peel the skin of other women, forcing you to wear their scars as your own. Remember how your mother struggled to find her skin in the pile, piecing herself back together … Continue reading Embrace the strength of your own warmth

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Let me discover the map of your body …

beatrizesmer

Let me, without words or sounds discover and describe the map of your body. I read in your eyes elusively, I see the lines of your fingers, in the shape of your chest. I was born as a writer and reader: distracted gestures, neck movements, outbursts of hands, the corners of your lips. And it does not escape from my pen the letters of your body. I find open discovered and discovered. In the grand story of us, your body is a map waiting to be explored, a narrative written in the curves of your form. With every glance, I … Continue reading Let me discover the map of your body …

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Winds of love …

beatrizesmer

The air unfurls, warm and untamed, slipping through my fingers like a secret whispered by the wind. If these words resonate within you, igniting a sensation akin to the moon resting upon your neck, I humbly apologize, for they were already entwined in love long before they spilled from my lips. Each syllable, a tender echo of emotions that have danced within me, yearning to find their way into the world. They were born from the depths of my being, carrying the weight of love and longing, and now they seek to find solace in the hearts of those who … Continue reading Winds of love …

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January 06, 2013

beatrizesmer

A truth was whispered into the universe. They say “opposites attract,” but I believe it’s people like us who fall in love with people like us. We fall in love with ourselves, with the depth and the yearning that resides within. It takes more than just anyone to be with one of us. We see the world with a different lens, longing for the essence of others, inhaling the words they exhale. We see more in people because of what we know about ourselves. We fall in love with those who possess beautiful words, profound thoughts, and the ability to … Continue reading January 06, 2013

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A symphony of beginnings …

beatrizesmer

This is not a finish, but a symphony of beginnings, a full-bodied, big-boned overture to a story yet untold. This is an invitation to kiss me, not to possess, but to affirm my own existence. Hold me up to the noonday sun, where its golden light ignites my skin, turning it the red of my inner fire. Follow me down to the black roads, where I etch my name onto the pavement, larger than life, a declaration of my presence. Read me out, letter by heavy letter, unraveling the intricacies of my being. Hold me under your tongue, let me … Continue reading A symphony of beginnings …

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You are a thunderstorm, a symphony of beauty …

beatrizesmer

“But my dear,” he said, “you are not a story.” You are not a refuge, a tale to escape the world’s worries. You are not crafted to be a mere display, a set of words to elegantly sway. You are not the triumph of good over evil, nor a fable of light against dark. You are a thunderstorm, a symphony of beauty and fear, a balance so perfect, kind yet fierce, painfully real, my dear. You are not a chapter to be read and closed, not a narrative that’s easily disposed of. You are the rawness of truth, the complexity … Continue reading You are a thunderstorm, a symphony of beauty …

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Come on!

beatrizesmer

Come on! Let’s live in a verse by Garcia Lorca, where the rhythm of a guitar sets the pace, and the air is filled with a sweet song’s embrace. Hand in hand, let’s walk together, through the Boulevard of old dreams, where memories linger and time gleams. Let’s recycle stagnant emotions, and laugh with sincerity, bringing accomplices to celebrate our bravery. We’ll toast to our triumphs, and make ecstasy our creed, feeling the same wonder for life as we do for the stars that lead. I invite you to believe, to say yes without delay, for at this moment, we … Continue reading Come on!

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If you want to talk to me …

beatrizesmer

If you want to talk to me, do not delay, for tomorrow I will be a different soul, a different ray. I will dismantle my house, my body, my being, to make room for something new, something freeing. I’ll be in the corners, selling my poems to the wind, even if no one buys, my words will be pinned. If you want to help, it has to be now, for I will soon walk through the rain alone, with a heart that’s unknown. I’ll sing and shout as I light candles bright, bleeding through the arrow, the cupid’s own flight. … Continue reading If you want to talk to me …

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Some days are so hard …

beatrizesmer

And on some days, I break. The weight of the world bears down upon me, and I falter under the burden of my own existence. The cracks in my spirit widen, and I feel the pieces of my resolve crumbling beneath the relentless pressure. But on some days, I try again. I gather the fragments of my shattered spirit, and with trembling hands, I piece them back together. I summon the strength to rise from the ashes of my despair, to defy the darkness that threatens to consume me. And on those days, I find the courage to face the … Continue reading Some days are so hard …

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My home

beatrizesmer

My home is not a mere place, not just bricks and mortar, but a yearning that resides deep within, obscured by the hustle and bustle of daily life. It is a longing that transcends physical boundaries and material possessions. My home is the people who fill my heart with warmth, love, and understanding. It is the laughter, the tears, the shared moments that weave the tapestry of my existence. My home is not confined to four walls, but it encompasses the vast expanse of life itself. It is the symphony of nature, the rustling leaves, the whispering winds, and the … Continue reading My home