I have swam so deep into you
that now I am drenched in your memories.
My name engraved on your shadow.
Your name, carved into the walls of my heart.
My name, softened on your tongue into a song.
Yesterday, I allowed myself
to drown deep in your waters.
Say, our story is a book drowning into water.
I swam out of you, once, and I arrived
at your shores panting heavily for breath,
because in your waters I had lost the need for air.
You are not a rose, neither a lily
or a sunflower; you’re a garden.
You are not a star; you are an entire galaxy.
You are not a fish; you are the river.
My desire for you is thirst;
and you are to me what water is to life.
My desire is eternal, and I am
too many lifetimes far away from satisfaction.
I reached out with my hand and touched
a half heaven inside your smile.
Tonight, I hold your picture in my hands
and in a second I travel to all the places
we have been: riverbanks, dreams
and the little island of happiness we found
in the midst of a vast ocean of drought.