Laskiaf Amortegui Colombia

THE FLOWERS OF THE FIELD
Unknown aromas reach my soul, the wind plays with my hair, I look with nostalgia at the flowers of the field, something inside me stirs, and it’s because of ours, my accomplices; they have departed.
My soul is mute, and the rain floods my heart. Great memories revive my mind; those flowers and you; they are no more.
There where your skin and my skin joined and loved more than once; we were naked bodies, passionate and sweaty, life and death, everything trembled around us.
Now the flowers are no longer the same; like you, they have lost their aroma, their colour, their essence, even their taste. An orgasmic taste that mixed with ours.
I look towards the horizon, and the brackish rain floods my eyes, crystal fragility, I long for that soft quilt where I slept, after leaving the battle; like a warrior defeated by your love.
Imperfect time; where they loved me, your way… Wild, feverish, suffocating, but tender; like a cat in love in heat. My lips drank its nectar, like yours, the delight of profane gods; the elixir of life.
Its petals caressed and brushed my body, as you did mine, We were unbridled lovers, passionate volcanoes, until we erupted.
But the flowers of the field; those, our flowers, are no more, Those where you danced, happy, until you fell privately in my arms, They will never return! Yes, those, our flowers! They are no more! They are gone forever, like snow in the heat, And you, like a shooting star, are lost.
You will be lulled by other flowers, other fields and another being. You and those flowers, they will never return, but they still live in my heart.
They and you are a memory of a present past. Ephemeral moments, where I loved you and you loved me. Now I am a strange gardener.
I flood this field with sighs, maybe you won’t even remember me. It hurts to accept! That neither you nor they are the same as yesterday… They are no longer ours!