Questions
I ask you
Do you search for me in the aisles of the grocery store
when you cannot find that thing I’d always get for you
because I knew it was your favorite?
Nunca
I ask you
Do you ever point out a cloud shape on a lazy afternoon
“Look — this one’s a fire breathing dragon”, and look to your left
wanting me to see it, too, with low, squinted eyes?
Nunca
I ask you
If in the middle of the night, when you awake from a nightmare,
do your limbs stretch out like tentacles, reaching for comfort,
trying to find safety, trying to find me?
Nunca
Then you ask me,
If the world were ending today, would you have any regrets?
With heavy shoulders, I shake my head to say ‘no’, for my world
has ended and began many times at your command,
but I would choose you,
siempre