Pages

Today I’ll write a letter with invisible ink, full of good memories, from the things I loved, and the things that I still have inside me and will be not for forgetting, just to write my last poem with it, to joy with the power of words and memories.

I will do it with a paper that I really like it, those you search when you want to say something nice to someone special, and I choose it with softness, I don’t to be sober, but also don’t be to showy.

I think in every word, in every sentence, like if I composed a melody, I’ll read it until I find myself singing it without notice, and then I’ll dance it for a while, until my legs fell down.

Then I’ll put on it ever sentence, every letter, with softness but with decision, and I sing it with all my names, the ones I was, the ones I’m , the ones that I’ll never be again, putting mi kiss, my tears and sign with it.

Then I put on my baggage, that I used for little travels, that have been with me so long, and so many times, the one that saw so much about me that sometimes It’s know me better that myself.

And one day, when my feet touch again the border of a beach, I’ll put on the water, let the see take it within, going ever where it want to go, the nice its no only have it, no only wrote it, no only brought it, sensed it and specially remember it.

Today I begin to turn the page.