As Blanquita rests (and I think of her) by Freddy José Villanes Tovar.

 Blanquita (mom) rests laying on her bed:

Her hands have the color of the sand

(I know how to count the days)

(I know and I´ve learned

that you don´t love me)

(I know when you make a wound

in my side and laugh)

(but I love you)

(because you smell good...

because you are pretty..

because you speak of sparrows

and butterflies)

(But above all I´ve said, because I´m

just a fool..

a big one..who endure you)

Let´s forget it..(it´s so hot in the city and smells gasoline everywhere)

Here I am remebering you..

"Hitting" my head on the wall because I did not tell you

(among other things)

what you know that I want from you.

It´s late: Dad scapes out to the streets (he says he goes for shopping

but Blanquita and I know

the color of nostalgia

in the afternoon

as the years pass by)

I love you (I´m goin to do it always beacause I have nothing else to do

and because the life has the same color of your eyes -black-and because

the world is made of something that the common people calls "imposibles" and

I call "misteries")

Good bye, Miss "misteries"

keep the perfume of your body,

take to others the fragance of your nights

and think a little bit in this "adventurer"

(Mom is silent, unbelievable; but she´s not sleeping;

just resting as giving me time to write this...)