🦋
I have again
butterflies,
tickles
inside of me,
a “looking forward to” heart.
I have on my skin
the hope of knowing
that the endings,
even if abrupt,
are required.
I will never be the same,
but I learned
that whoever loves you well,
exists.
And who does not, does not matter.
That what had to happen, happened,
and now there it remains
an intrinsic value
in me,
that still persists.
And, when the magma of the volcano
arrives at the beach,
my ocean, my Atlantic
will turn it into porous rock,
so light, strong
solid
and capriciously:
Liberty, honour, future.
What had to happen, happened
and I only have left
saltspray and butterflies
escaping from my lips,
messenger fairies
of new love
on new steps.
I have on my skin
an abrupt ending
of necessary scars
and a winged stampede
closing my wounds
with kisses and tender
words.
