THE AIR IN THE MIRROR

… beneath a cloak of light, the ethereal form of your virgin body is drawn,
and the air, chained to your garments,
surrenders in the mirror of your shadow;

… how many times have you given me violets in the cold
and rain in my gardens of orange blossoms,
how many times have you wept in my blood,
waiting to touch my heart;

… nothing has been more intimate than the touch of your wing,
your pure beauty, trembling in the profile
of a purest drop of rain;

… will I ever possess the radiant fullness
that you bring into my breast…?

My love,
perhaps this experience will burst forth in no greater wonder,
than simply living the incredible emotion of this immense and profound moment.

***
Antonio Justel
https://antoniojustel.com
***