Olas de Amor
By Cynthia M. Portalatín aka CynthiaRose
I miss my love
like I once missed mi playa, mis caracoles.
But the tears are no longer those of a child.
They are now the ache of a woman’s heart.
I miss my love,
like I missed playing in the arena, quemandome con el sol.
The gentle rocking of the waves at night
is no longer what my body needs to sleep.
Now, it is the waves felt in my love’s arms that I miss.
Mis olas de amor.
The anger I felt toward the palm trees of the north,
which so betrayed those of my beloved isla
is translated, transformed
from one love to another, more human to the touch.
And the sight of happy lovers together
deepens the wound I carry by choice
Because I cannot let go of this ache.
I cannot abandon the pain.
It will keep the memory of my love alive,
until I once more can relive my dream.
Or until las olas cubran mi alma.
