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Aurora, Beautiful and Mysterious

Since I started to feel something for you. It was not by chance or spontaneity of a lover, no, it was something else. Aurora, like the aurora borealis of the northern skies, so beautiful and mysterious, majestic, so beautiful and unattainable, so, as you were for me.

Aurora, like those beautiful lights shining in the sky, well, like you, you became this beautiful light, inspiration, dreams and hopes of reaching poderte day. So, I started looking at you, from that moment my eyes stopped to contemplate yours and for a second, without knowing you were mine.

So secret was the feeling that he kept for you and among inkwells I spent at night and leaves that I wrote and garnish for the evening, where I sat at any bank to contemplate your memory and when you look your eyes as well among my verses, as varied without owners, art seen you in those verses so in love, they were for you.

Aurora, the word with more meaning behind the rhymes and verses or the prose that does not make sense until you talk. Aurora, word behind which all the love I have for you started hiding and soon understood. There, where my verses you mentioned, where the beautiful women, compared to the most beautiful and resplendent Aurora, was actually Ariadne, my beloved, you would love, though not have to love.

Aurora, simple as that, or perhaps so complex that even a goddess, much less anyone else, could be compared to you, or what you made me feel. So, as I started writing, as the first verse that I ventured to give and to my surprise, I got you to imagine for a moment as would a life, a life with me by your side. Unusual, crucial moment in which a fragment of hope welled up in me and although just that it be served to never stop writing to the Aurora, or making me feel time.

So, what never told, nor because the Aurora, so beautiful that I fell in love without knowing what he did, but I knew myself without knowing it and loved and had not been able to touch her. So I was loving, day, guarded, at night, in tears, in doubt, sadness of not to be able to have, despair of me, not knowing you, wanting sorry and have you away, distant, with someone else and I did not know he was dying to love you, love you, night and day, every hour, in bed, in public, with a kiss, a look or something else.

So, as dying, sad night, elongated, shady companies, until you said to me, hello, until your presence dispelled my doubts until after age knew I loved you no doubt.

I loved you before I knew that I loved because it made no sense to write much without love you so much, I love you so not enough, so do not say, they show or not to show it, you can questioning anything, even, may questioning and could doubt if I like my job, but never say I do not love, because when I say that if it's not you be someone else, I tell them to just you because I love you and it is the end, and who doubt that I love you it is because there will be read before you write to know that I love you. I love you now, before and after, I love you all with all, with my soul, with my errors and my virtues, because I'm human, so it is that I love you.

I remember how tired I won from a counseling calculation and a coffee without caffeine (for my taste a coffee without caffeine, obviously not coffee) and you, talking spontaneously as did all the time and tired, talking, because I it was inevitable that verse fix you, aurora, with which dreamed a life with me and I with you forever.

"Aurora, beautiful light of the northern skies, as beautiful and mysterious as I want to be beside you and hold your hand, kiss you and never let go"


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