Within the world of written language, where love is etched in ink and memories are woven into verses, I find myself. I write, not merely to express, but to remind myself of the love that resides within me. For poetry, in its purest form, is but an affection glimpsed from the other side, a kindness immortalized in the gaze of a lover.

Who am I, if not the poet, the silent translator of unspoken words, the weaver of a tapestry of possibilities? I am a woman, living and breathing in each line I pen, even if they never find me. I am revealed through my words, each one a fragment of my being, even if they cannot fully capture my essence.

I dwell in a kingdom of my own knowledge, a realm that willingly confesses its truths, even if I falter in grasping what remains: the infinite. Poetry, the life that thrives behind the eyes, touches us deeply, for we recognize in its letters only a reflection of our own souls.

So, I continue to write, to translate the silences, to explore the possibilities. I continue to live in my lines and reveal myself in my words. For in this kingdom of knowledge, amidst the infinite, I find not just myself, but also the love that I am reminded of, the affection on the other side, and the kindness in a lover’s eyes.

Copyright © Beatriz Esmer

Dry Pastel Arts – Collection “Gente”