Should all the lights vanish one by one and we were in the dark
perhaps then you might see the way you put the stars in my sky,
dusting the darkness with specks of love that burns
too brightly and yet still leaves me craving more--
more of love and more of you and more of a thousand memories
that we have yet to craft in young hands, weathered palms,
between now and the decades that race before us
and will still never be enough.
You are the one who puts all the stars in my night sky
and brings tranquility to tumultuous sleep
with a few soft murmured words that once built houses --
houses meant for Matilde and now those words build heavens
in a foreign tongue and a gentle touch
and I could stargaze at your creation for the remainder of our days.