Cinderella

I hate being where you are missing, when you are missing. And yet, it is always I who leaves, and you cannot follow me.

When I return and see you appear on the horizon, your light illuminates my heart once more, and with each passing day I wish that what I feel for you will never end.

Carmina, I can no longer live without seeing your beautiful eyes. Everything about you is wonderful: your gorgeous black and straight hair, your graceful body, the caresses of your soft hands, and your feet… oh, your feet! What can one say about your feet? If I had the strength to put into words what I felt when I dreamed I was caressing your feet, I would rise up and raise my voice to tell you: “I, were I neither prince nor king, call upon heaven as my witness, that I held in my hands and kissed the most beautiful feet anyone on this earth could ever imagine; so beautiful were they that I suffered, without meaning to, such an emotion that I lost my senses. Upon waking, still dazed by the bliss, I rose and saw… with these very eyes of mine, the most beautiful woman in the world.” That woman is you… Carmina.

P.S.: On the path of truth, the literary understanding of existence inevitably finds and faces its “Alter ego.” To confront what is essential I do not choose theory, but anecdote. Instead of proceeding by concepts, I tell a story.

23/12/2018… I dream of you… I desire you, Carmina.

Carlos E.

From: https://robingato.com | Author: Carlos Martínez