I like the way you dance.
I wish to play for you to dance like that
I wish to play for you to dance here.
I wish to play
for you to dance here, like that.
I like the way you sing, I love it.
I wish you sing like that,
I wish you sing something to me.
I wish to feel
that you sing like that, to me.
I like the way you cross the world.
I like the way you walk over there,
facing whatever happens, and I
I wish to walk,
or that you walk over here.
(some months after...)
I like when you pay me attention,
I like when you get close
and we talk until the morning to the sound
of Hermeto Pascoal
or the trumpet of Sandoval.
I like when you kiss me
taking care that the others
don't see and don't find out, and I
I kiss you
on any place, suddenly.
I like when you come home,
I like the way you make love,
I like the way you make the bed later,
and I also like
your way of making coffee.
(a year after...)
I like when you write quiet,
and then when you reed to me
I die with those love poems
and I live again
when you stop reading, finally.
I like how you live doing,
I like the things you do,
but there's something I wish to ask,
if you don't get offended:
don't try another english pudding.
(two years after...)
I like the way you raise the children,
I like when you take them
with you for them to go with you,
and I can stay
home alone and rest.
I like when you leave early
to do the shopping.
I like when you go to work, too,
and at night
you get late to return.
(ten years after...)
I like when you leave with someone else
and you leave me alone,
and I can do whatever I please.
I like that you are
wherever you don't disturb me.
I like when you leave on a trip,
I like the way you prepare
the bags with so much care,
and you go with time to get
a ticket to anywhere.
(fifty years after...)
I like when from time to time
we meet in a bar
and we talk about those happy days,
and we make an encore,
or retro fashion, if you like.