I Know You
Although sometimes you hide behind your impenetrable silences, even if you use a different perfume and change your hair color.
I know your shadow when it extends on the asphalt with the street lights and when it fades and merges with the night. I know your lips when you disapprove of something and your tongue dances with mine in that space where nothing fits but the sky that is created when two mouths come together.
I know your look of joy, your look of fear, your look of fatigue, your look of hope, and, my favorite: the look of pleasure. I know your skin, from pore to pore, inch by inch, because I spend all my holidays there, covering the mileage of your coasts, your beaches, which I always see as the first day. I know the taste of your textures, the exact point where a kiss takes any trace of decency, any breath of tenderness. I know your hands when they tremble, when they explore when they discover and heal.
I’ve never seen you upset as if anger had consumed you inside, you bring calm with every smile, you turn all my wars into peace, just by looking at me. I don’t know how you do that. I know your hair, so rebellious when you wake up and so docile when you come out of the shower. I know you in all your seasons: when it rains and when you bloom, and when you become sunset and the world looks at you enchanted, because somehow you make it understand things as if your presence is a miracle.
I know you this way when I don’t want to discover you completely, because I will always want to know more about you but in doses, as my favorite medicine. I know you because you are my home, and your dreams are mine, though I did not tell you that my best dreams are like yours, but empty, when you allow yourself to be fully inhabited, and you give yourself that way. precious, which breaks.
It rebuilds you, in that way that makes you infinite.
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