somedays I would like to write you a letter letter written in pencil, handwritten.
to sign it with an unknown name Silvia or Martha, or Agatha maybe.
but in the letter nothing of importance, except maybe the changes I see in you.
The way your neck changed, it is slimmer.
The way your voice changed a little,
it found pace, something it was looking for
the way you used to look for maybe old crushes, or woman that got your blood running, blonde and beautiful and tall called Louissa or Isabela.
Your tired eyes.
Your love and light and desire, not ever expressed verbally.
the way I feel like myself, more when I am close to you. The way I never feel judged.
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