Wanting To Have Made More Mistakes

I have loved for so long that riddle on your face
the questions past your eyes hidden behind your eyelashes
the curtains so black that cover them.
I have looked for so long those tender glances.

I have waited to describe you a hundred years;
in my short life a thousand seconds in a minute.
After all, metaphors are but crumbs man’s intellect
but your attributes give honor to words.

I have gambled with my life in a game of odds
and wan you as my trophy.
I want to inject in my veins the happiness
that comes from loving you, from having you.

And people say these are the mistakes, if loving you is one
then I’ll be wanting to make more mistakes
for, what bad can be born from sharing my life
with a flower that is in bloom all year long?

I have carried these phrases in my shirt’s pocket
to offer as a bouquet to you
to place them in your heart’s vase
and water them with your tears of joy.

And I shall bring you music notes riding on the stars
to hypnotize the fears you have and calm you
until I devour like the sea all of the malice
that surrounds your delicate feet.

I promise you December, I promise you the skies
and with my hands I will carry all of your worries and cries
throw them over my shoulder and
let them rot under the sun and rain.

But I have waited so long to have you.
I have given up many things to call you mine,
if this is a mistake then many people have died
wanting to have made more mistakes


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