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My love, I write to you with my heart in my hand,
as one who is not afraid to undress in words,
because loving you is the most sincere thing, the earliest thing,
that in this life I have found among the bullets.
Your eyes are beacons that light up my days,
and in every whisper the sun awakens,
the shadows dissipate, and in sweet melodies,
my soul unfolds, like a petal in the open.
Your laughter, a chord that envelops the silence,
each gesture of yours, a poem in the air,
and so, between dreams, I keep you in my essence,
like one who caresses the breeze in a dance.
My love, I write to you from the depths of my heart,
with the ink of my being, flowing sincere,
for on this canvas called the world,
your love is the light that never alters.
There is no fear in my verses, only living truth,
because loving you is, without a doubt, the most beautiful and divine thing;
and if a thousand lights die when the shadow falls,
in you I will always find my destiny.