LETTER TO A DANCING GIRL

I decided: I also knocked down the last walls I had left.

I have to tell you: the more nights pass the more I think exclusively of you.

And not just because the world and its colors draw your shape everywhere.

No...

I'm the one who chooses to think of you.

I think I have hidden something immense in me,

and now that I have opened it,

slowly, the door,

he comes out with sweet vehemence,

taking space and its forms

and always screaming your name.

I know well that you have other and others to which you can place your interest.

I can understand that. Maybe accept it.

But I do not care.

Your monosyllables will never stop the dam of love that overflows in my veins.

It is no coincidence that the blue protagonist of the previous letters has chosen to leave and, not having other inks similar to that,

black and his conviction, determination and firmness can be my guide for what changes in me.

I heard you talking to Aria and giving her advice ... how funny to find yourself talking about us, talking about others.

I can't let my guard down:

there are still many situations to be resolved and dissolved.

But please never think that I may be fake or disguised.

I protect what surrounds us so that everyone can breathe clean air.

But I'm still me ... and your eyes know it.

You undress me, you make me take my breath away,

you steal my sleep, you dance naked in the chamber of my soul, you spray jealousy everywhere.

I know, I should take the reins and stand up to you. But how can I ever if my head is swinging between your legs and your arms?

Or between your shoulders and your belly?

Yeah ... I didn't sleep a wink to everything inside me screaming:

you who flirt with him.

You who think back to her.

And me? Where am I?

In past scars?

Among the unfulfilled dreams?

In the long limbo of the useless infatuations that one feels when everything around is big and inside is still to be discovered?

I do not know.

And maybe I'll never know.

What I know is that your image has never abandoned me and I have always hoped that it would come back to think of me.

Also to take revenge on the timing.

And now?

Leave you alone? Observe your kisses?

Try to pinch yourself? Show coldness? Continue to leave free the compliment and the eye that is always looking for you?

Or escape like that evening of tachycardia?

What a fool my heart ... (in love?)

He would like answers from those who have always kept silent.

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