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you are my lost lamb and i am the author of sheep

there are lines on my body that one does not cross
and there are lines on my body that tell everything
there are lines that want to become curly
and lines that want to be caressed

you have once crossed
twice read
three times curled
and many times caressed

but i am still a stranger to you
and you an immigrant to me
you with your language
and me with my ridiculous ideas
we have no common reference like sisters or brothers
but you understand me sometimes
like i try to be understood

i am not correct like any equation that makes sense. We are 1 + 1 = 3
but it is not my intention to hurt you
even if you take me as an offense
what do you do when you are misunderstood?
when waiting for the other shoe to drop?
waiting for someone to break your heart?

am i that fragile?
no
but i have steered my heart to things and people that cannot break me
and i wonder, ‘how long can you deny that you are a creature of habit?’
you love Love
you love

i think of you
often
and i know you are happy where you are
or at least i want to imagine you so

i imagine you with your life
in your bed
with your one and only
and i say, i know
and
I want only the best for you
only the best

and i am sorry that it wasn’t me
and that it can’t be
so we will let life finish the story.
make it until the end,
and remember me.

as i remember you
in moments
little moments when i catch your words running through my head
and your friends in front of me shopping at the King’s supermarket, Acima

i remember you as you were
and i love you
it was a little story, a blimp in time but
i never stop loving the ones that have entered into my body
they live in me

you
live
in
me

still

and

always

without

guilt

without

judgement

there is room for all my mistakes and feelings

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