My trails

Is going to be ok,

I shall not leave any evidence

of my presence,

like a Christmas or birthday present,

set in ones hand

yet not knowing what’s inside,

after tears have evaporated

and have traveled to the sky,

I have changed the way my mind acts,

without noticed

I will seat by your side,

with a fresh cut rose

I will wish you a great day,

a fresh cup of orange juice,

with a couple of pancakes,

and if you desire some scrambled eggs,

but as he comes near,

I shall become a imprint,

when your fatigue,

stress is overpowering your mind,

I will rub your soft tender shoulders

with therapeutic oils,

gently as caressing a flower fresh picked,

as he makes his way,

I shall become an imprint,

as the sunsets,

and his playing video games,

maybe playing poker with his friends,

not attending his obligations as a man,

I will be the arms who will tug you to sleep,

to your ear whisper

some delightful rhythmic humming’s,

the words would form to dance

in the light of the moon,

I will kiss you with my loving lips,

make traces where a man would rarely see,

in your mind I will build a white house,

where you can calmly rest and sleep,

I will kiss your heart,

set a personal factory for inventory has to be build,

since it’s a motor

that should forever worked with full force,  

I will kiss your soft pink cheeks,

since no man pays attention to the path of emotion,

for is the path of tears,  

I will kiss your hands,

at times we don’t acknowledge the fact,

you may lift entire galaxies with them,

is ok I will not leave evidence of my presence,

since I will leave the imprints of my lips,

where no man would ever think of searching in,

I will complement the way you smile,

the way you have respect for yourself,

the way you stand,

have that soft blue eyeliner

that matches your wallet and outfit,

yet more importantly

the gorgeous tones of your heart,

there will be no evidence of my trails


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