Do you remember our first meeting?
That evening I did not know you.
I recognized your sweetness,
your shyness,
your loneliness,
your silence.
I thought I had only my body to give you,
and that you only wanted that.
But you wanted much more.
You wanted to be free
and you wanted me to be free too—"free and yours".
You called it love
and I always told you: "That does not exist—it would be too beautiful."
You looked at me. You smiled. Be quiet.
And slowly, slowly—I don't know why—I began to undress myself inside
for you.
Slowly my foolish ideas crumbled—
my fears—
my suspicion.
And together, with my body, you embraced my will,
my emotions, my soul.
And, for the first time,
I lowered my eyes
and I blushed before a man.
Then,
only us,
shy us,
liberated us,
outside of us,
inside of me,
lovers—us.
Then,
crazy about us,
absurd us,
guiltless us,
sinners us,
slaves of ourselves,
angels—us.
And, it is for that reason that it now seems so absurd to me.
Of course, it's not very nice to see you gather up all your things
and try to run away like a thief.
I'm not stopping you, right?
You taught me how to be free.
Now I want you also to be free.
I can
take away
everything about you,
but at our first meeting,
you left it here,
inside me,
inside of ...