Rita and The Visa

I’d give up half of what’s left in my age to be in your arms once again, For our bodies to touch as you sing in my ears.

I’d give up half of what I lived to sing Sade on the bed as I watch you sweep our fears and worries under that old dirty rug.

I’d trade half of what I have to share one more cigarette with you on that sidewalk as we pet the orange cats and the other half for it to feel like it once felt three years ago.

What would it take to be surrounded by you and everyone else once again?

If it would take effort, my shoulders will carry the heaviest mountains.

If it takes patience I’ll have the resilience of Job until patience bursts my ribs open, and if takes tears then my weeping will know no limits.

I’d give up half of what I saw and half of what I heard just to wake up late on that 8th of September and miss that airplane.

I’m ready to be consumed and devoured just to walk among the souls that I have deserted, Souls that I found only their remains when I came back to visit.

The chase of highs and accolades left me with a broken spine and a lump in my throat and what is left of a man if he starts looking over his shoulders ?

I only deserted to belong, to be part of something bigger than myself only to find out no place in the world can contain me, not even the world itself.

And now, I would give half my age to wash my feet in the dunes of your deserted heart, to be baptized by the precious tears you grant me the courtesy of seeing, I’d burn myself alive just to feel them run down my shoulders one last time.

I would give up half my age to tuck my head in the shadow of your olive tree as you make the stray dogs go away the same way you drove away my grief and agony.

I would give up half my age for you to let me stitch the old wounds I opened and the other half to relive the moment when we took that vow over the most beautiful glass.

I would give up my age and beyond to be immortalized in that span of a few seconds reliving it each time with the same intensity.