Un, dos, tres,
un pasito 'palante, Maria!

Were the words
that ignited
her flare,
seducing every man
in the room
with her dessert-like
tone skin,
cherry colored dress,
and her *Latin moves
awing every soul.
She embodied
seduction,
she embodied
Salsa music.

She was Salsa music.

Someday I'll be a father
who never had a father.

There are some times
when I wonder what
would my life be like
if my father had stayed.

Would I have gained
such confidence at an
early age to swing a bat,
or someone whom I could
go camping with and taught me
how to start a fire
instead of being such
a timid kid growing up.

Would my mother
have not such burden
to work twice as hard
just to feed my brother
and I by herself?

Such thoughts flooding
my entire mind—
but then I snap to reality
and say to myself:

"**** that guy."

Is as if fate placed us both
at the same time,
at the same place,
with the same hope:
To find love.

With your long,
and beautiful blonde hair,
dazzling blue eyes,
and such enchanting smile.

And as you walked closer
to I,
my knees finally
has a taste of
what an Earthquake was,
my heart raced
tremendously fast,
as if it didn't know
what stopping was,
my face red
as a rose,
as though the rose
made eternal
passionate love
to my face.
But as soon as you spoke,
I knew divinity did existed.

I knew that you were
the kind of woman
that a man
would spend an entire life
wanting to love
endlessly and unconditionally.

She was a diamond
in the rough,
and yes,
although she's been
hurt too many times
in the past,
she, with all her heart,
still believes in
romance and true love.

She was comfortable
with all her defects,
and just by that
she knew she was
still beautiful.

And because of the way
she saw herself,
as beautifully imperfect
as she was,
her shine was
unstoppable.

Her worth was priceless.

*She was a diamond in the rough.

Women-

Beings so glorious,
so radiant,
spectacular and
outstanding.
They're what God promised men:
paradise.
A combination of strength,
intelligence,
intuition,
and sensitivity all in one.
How beauty bestows women
at their grace
for which women are creators
of life.
Creators of men.
The great ability
that women have over
anything and everything,
including men.
How a woman's body is
beautifully crafted
perfectly in its own
unique and genuine way.
How women are life;
the life that we all
are apart of,
making women
a man's entire universe.

She was a written love letter
              in a text message world.

Your soulmate
isn't someone who comes
into your life
in a peaceful manner,
nor are they expected,
but is sure is someone
who makes you
question life-
your life.
Your soulmate
is someone who changes
your reality.
Somebody that marks a
"before and after"
in your life.
It is not the human being
that everyone has
idealized,
but an ordinary person,
who manages to revolutionize
your entire world
in mere seconds.

There was just something
so deeply enamoring,
that you could not only
see it in her existence,
but you can
feel it in her eyes
as well.
That it did not matter
what anyone
thought,
said,
or believed about them.
That all that it only mattered
was what they had-
and that was love.
There were no need
for words,
they understood each other
fluently with just one look.
And with just one look,
serenity soothed their
soul, mind, and heart.
But he-
he only saw her for how
she truly was:
Glorious, radiant, spectacular,
and absolutely perfect
because his perception
of women did not limited
his sight.
He, as a man,
understood quite well
that he had the
responsibility and duty
to assure his woman,
to make her feel,
to make her sense,
that he was not just
captivated,
but intrigued,
in her.
That he was in search
for the depth
of her inner beauty
to the point that it
overwhelmed
all her flaws,
her insecurities,
her fears,
and spark this
wild passion
within her
to want to give her
entire devotion to him.
That she could release
her mind, body and soul.
Entregarse ella misma
so passionately,
so eternally,
to just him and only him.
That she could release
all that beauty that she kept
hidden away.
To finally let someone love
her just for the way she is-
as flawed as she was,
as unattractive as she
sometimes felt,
and as unaccomplished
as she thought she was.
To believe that she had to hide
all the parts
of her that were broken,
out of fear
that someone else was
incapable of loving
what was less than perfect.
How two minds became
infixed with raw love
and tender affection.
Believing that the body
if his woman
was what God promised-
Paradise.
How it should be touched,
how it should be explored
with a rose;
his love.
Caressing her flesh
as though the rose itself
were the wing
of an angel.
He understood
how his woman
should be touched.

If you want to send her
a sweet gesture such as flowers,
do not send her roses.
Although, roses are quite lovely,
you should send her orchids.
You see,
when orchids are floating
in the water,
they look graceful,
beautiful and very peaceful.
And that's what love should be;
something beautiful
floating to you
so peacefully with such delicate
grace from
the unknown.
Almost like floating on an
never-ending
lake filled with possibilities
and romance.

As I'm awoken
to the sweet melodic
tune
of the waves,
stress-free,
I turn around
to the most
angelic sight:
Her.
Caressing her cheek
with the back
of my hand,
admiring,
cherishing,
every single bit
of her
existence.
And as her eyes
open with such ease,
I fall deeply more
for those
crystal-magnetic
blue eyes of hers.
Our white covers
complementing
her perfect
porcelain skin,
gracefully
keepin' her warm
while I fill her entire body
with burning,
yet sincere kisses.

What infatuated
her
about him
was the ability
he was blessed with
of touching her
in such a
unique and genuine
manner
that no other living creature
had ever done.
How he could
touch her
and nothing else
ever mattered anymore;
a connection
so beautiful that neither both
could ever explain
in mere words.
How he could touch
her
without him ever
touching
her at all.
That's what
infatuated
her
the most about him.

Before the paradigm
of my thinking
shifted,
I use to believe
that the Universe
didn't like me
at all.
That I was cursed
with horrible luck
and when I use to think that,
everyday to me
was a bad day.
But now I don't believe
in bad days anymore.
And I've been asked
of why is it that I don't
believe in bad days
anymore
and I always respond
with the same thing,
"The reason why I don't believe
in bad days is because
I don't see it as bad days.
I see them as
character building days".
When everything seems
not going your way
and you feel like today
is going to be a bad day,
you start appreciating
even the simplest things
about other days
and how good you have it.
The moral of this
is that one should always
learn things everyday,
even in those 'bad days'.
Become at peace with yourself,
and the Universe
will become at peace with you.

You see,
I could stare at those
beautiful eyes of yours
for an eternity.
Admire the perfect
lining and texture
of your lips
and cherish your soul
with the warmth of my heart.

I want a relationship
between you and I
where sweet love-making
turns into rough ***,
hugs into kisses,
and a ring into forever.

Being your shield throughout
the storms that life brings,
your rock when you most
need support,
but most importantly
be the love that you would
never forget.

Sure, we may have differences,
but those differences
would be meaningless.
Our love would be so much
more stronger
and much more deeper
than our differences.

Every flaw that you would
find in yourself
and would hate,
it would be another reason
why I would love you
even much more.

Those imperfections
that you would hate about yourself
would be the things
that I would love and adore
about you.

Imperfection is beauty.

And now whenever you wished
you could be perfect,
my love, you'd already be
absolutely perfect in my eyes.

Perfectamente, mi amor.

She spoke of poetry
as though it were her
goodbye letter.

No-
not to the world,
but to her pain.

And what was baffling
about her was
how someone so beautiful,
both inside-out,
be broken and darkened
by her past.

But something
that I was blinded to
in the beginning
was that even in all
that darkness,
a light so majestic,
absolutely luminous,
existed.

It was her that was
blinded of the true beauty
she was blessed with.

Her insecurities blinded her
of who she really was,
of what she could be
capable of.

She was her own enemy.

An innocent little girl
walking blindly,
petrified,
in this
cold forsaken world.
The monsters under her bed
were never afraid of her,
nor was she to them,
but the monsters that did
scare her were the same
ones that we
all have-
the ones living inside our heads.
Some cage them well,
and some simply don't.
Fearing that if they
set them free
they will never be in control.
The only monsters she knew
were humans.
In her teary eyes,
humans were the real monsters.

All monsters are humans.

As though
her insecurities
consumed
her entirely,
he understood
that a woman
like her
were those rare
women
whom men
only came across
once in a lifetime.
He understood
the way
a woman like her
should be
wooed,
held,
loved,
seen,
and touched.
She being his weakness
and he her strength-
they could understand
one another
without having to say
anything
to each other.
A simple glare
from either one
spoke a million truths.
How, when they held
one another,
became two souls
as one.
Enamored in their
fidelity
towards each other
and how mutual
their simplicity
drawn them together.

SHE BUILT HER
DEMONS FROM
THE ASHES OF
BURNT MEMORIES.

                                                      SHE BUILT HER
                                                       ANGELS FROM
                                                        THE HOPE OF
                                               FUTURE MELODIES.