This year, you are relearning the art of kisses—their tender choreography. A kiss, you realize, is more than a meeting of lips; it is a dance of golden legs that swing off the precipice of desire. It hangs there, suspended, before gravity pulls it into the red cavern of a laughing mouth. Each kiss, heavy with longing, carries the weight of a thousand poems—their verses etched into the very fabric of your being.

And so, you return to yourself. You become the houseplants that cling to corners, their leaves reaching for sunlight. You shake the dust from forgotten shelves, unearthing memories and dog-eared pages. The past bends backward, revealing its secrets—the inked lines of joy, sorrow, and quiet reflection. You reread them, tracing the contours of your own history.

People, too, become part of your curriculum. They arrive like unexpected lessons, each one a revelation. You learn that they are not mere passersby; they are catalysts for transformation. Their laughter, their tears—they shape the landscape of your days. You pray in your own way, the words echoing through mornings and tomorrows. Your voice, still remembering itself, finds solace in these whispered invocations.
Touch becomes a language you reacquaint yourself with. To be touched is to be vulnerable, to open the gates of your soul. You remember the way—how skin meets skin, how warmth seeps into bones. And in the quietude of night, you empty someone into yourself. Their essence merges with yours, and you walk lighter, as if the stars themselves have lent you their luminescence. You become light—a constellation of memories, hopes, and the promise of dawn.

So, embrace this relearning. Let it be your compass, guiding you through the labyrinth of existence. For in these moments of rediscovery, you find not only yourself but also the universe whispering its secrets. 🌟❤️

©️ Beatriz Esmer