Au nom de l'amour

Little Voices

Listen to the little voices, lean on my chest and hear the babel of tongues that call your name.

“Lola, lola, lola.”

Let me hold your hand as we cherish the last photo of our existence. As we get closer to the door of grave, let the memories flow down from the last drop of it when we were in high school.

How I steal a glance of you while you were busy eating a cotton candy, how beautiful your smile and your chortle eating an ice cream the first time we met.

Let the last seconds of our life be spent waiting for the first ray of the sun if it's morning and counting stars if it's night.

Let the laugh of our grandchildren be a remembrance of the reverberating sound of the bell on our wedding day.

How beautiful you were that day in that white gown, walking on a floor covered with red roses.

Let me tell you about me, childishly reading about your horoscope, how I write about you in my diary as I fell in love with you everyday.

Let me watch the dusk on your eyes as we getting the gray of the last strand of our hair, as we breathe the last air of our time.

Let me read you the tales of our childhood, the poems that I wrote about you as I barely remember your name with my Parkinson's disease.

Thank you for existing.

Let me praise the heaven of letting me see an angel in real life, to have the universe my chaos has sought.

As we throwback to the times we only wish about this, let me whisper the three words to your ear for the last time.

“I love you.”

As you are now slowly sleeping for eternity in my arms, let me hold on to my vow that I will be there where you are.

Till death I'll never be apart from you, sleep now darling, as I'm waking you up in heaven.

—Sant Bibliophile 🌻