Like cold water that makes your skin tingle,
And the shining rocks that hold it,
Like the strength of tiny waves that drag you to dream (to live),
In your waterfall, you heard me.
And your sweet touch on my burns set me aflame,
And your hands awakened in me what I thought was dead.
And my tongue grew again, after years of having cut it with torment,
And you showed me the sky, you showed me the uncertain.
And I began to speak.
And I spoke and spoke so much that my heart grew tired and my words ran out,
Yet still, you listened.
And you were so bold, so harsh, so kind,
So difficult, so sad, so tender,
So cold, so fresh, so you—
That I created a dictionary just to compose words in your name,
And I started with the word “waterfall,”
And I sank into you.
I like how you listen.
I don't remember why I wrote this one but I love it (wrote it in Spanish first)
