When Flowers Die

Photo by N.S. Property of this blog

Soon enough the flowers die, each petal falls and dries,

Their magnificent fragance intensifies until it fades.

But, our desire is still here: the love, the joy, the care.

It doesn't really matter how long the flowers live,

They mean more than their own lives.

They were, are and will always be,
 The materialization of our fragile feelings.

Mi cuerpo

In your eyes photo by N.S. Property of this blog.

Es mío.

Mío el cuerpo que cargo, que llevo y que arrastro día a día.
Mía la piel que habito y la mirada que desvío.

Mías las decisiones, mías las canciones, mío el infinito.
Mis estrías, mis lunares, mis alergias, mis pesares: míos, mías, míos!

Mi cuerpo es mío.