Tell me, what country we are from
when we love like that—
like rivers that refuse to end,
like stars that never ask
if the sky will hold them back?

Tell me, where does passion rest
when the world forgets its name?
Do we belong to the hush of dawn,
or to the aching streets of rain?

Tell me, love—if borders fade,
is there a place for hearts like ours?
Or do we drift, like exiled dreams,
too fierce, too wild, too far? 😔

©️ Beatriz Esmer