i don’t know what a book would do
if i wrote you one.
this love is too much.
this bond is ineffable.
i’m not gonna say you are everything
because everything turns meaningless
compared to you.
i’m not gonna say you are oxygen
because when oxygen ceases
my body dies
but my soul still lives like nothing’s happened.
i’m not gonna say you are the sun
because the sun leaves me daily
and doesn’t protect me from
becoming part of the dark.
i’m not gonna compare you to anything.
i’m not even gonna try anymore.
because to try to sum you up in a metaphor
is like man trying to imitate the light of sun
by inventing a lamp.
you have the Divinity of God inside you.
a pure, live soul you are, mama.