Mi tesoro
Mi amor
Mi vida
Mi corazon
Mi almar
My treasure
My love
My life
My heart
My soul
How intensely, passionately, madly, wildly, unashamedly do the Spanish love. When was the last time you called a beloved your life, your heart, your soul?
Makes me wonder if this should be the only way to love.
Crazy, with abandon, with every fibre of your being. (notice no reference to ‘my mind’, who fucking says I love you with my all my mind anyways??!??)
But does it last.
Does this flame that burns so furiously, burn out all too quickly…
Or is it love that comes in silence, quietly at first light, as you watch the rising sun caress his sleeping face and run your fingers gently over his lashes as you smile to yourself. Is this the love that burns for a few lifetimes...
Fuck if I should know.
Turks have names like this, and they love like this too. I'm equally confused about the lasting potential of such loves. I've been entangled with one for awhile now, and that sweetness stopped by week two...this is now something like week 235....
ReplyDeleteI like how you're still counting. Bittersweet isn''t it. I often wonder what it is that makes love so tenacious against all sensibilities, and on the flip side what makes it so fleeting...and then I just get tired of wondering. And long for simplicity.
ReplyDelete