Before I love you completely, I will first love your hands—your nails, the scars that resemble sewing lines, mending your body cautiously in an attempt (this time, not failed) to build the perfect human being.

First, I will love your tree-branch arms, which transfigure into rivers filled with fury, rushing swiftly toward the end—while I am still in the early missteps of my first steps.

I will love every detail, every drop of sweat. I will love every apology, every explanation—every demand, every contradiction.

I will love every fruit, every flower—and every thorn. Why not?

I will love every single thing that comes from you. I will love the way you play, the way you create, the way you express yourself in drawings and words. Because everything you build is a part of who you are, and everything you touch—I want to be a part of me.

I want it to be… ❤

©️ Beatriz Esmer