Mita, your hands spoke tales,
twisted in strings of lullabies and whispers,
in morning coffee aromas,
in golden bracelets that danced
with each refined movement of yours.
Time, however, stole your names one day,
dates disintegrated like sand between fingers,
and in your eyes, ones like shining lanterns,
only a haze remained,
disoriented in a past that no longer found its way.
I summoned you, Mita.
Repeatedly,
like someone calling the sea
hoping the tide would bring back what was lost.
But silence spread its net,
and you slowly slipped from me
well before you ever left.
When you left me that day,
I had emptiness in my chest
where your laughter had lived.
But time, the very thief who kidnapped you,
reminded me that you never left at all.
Today, when I look in the mirror,
I can see you looking back at me.
In my voice, your eco.
In my fingers, your fingerprints.
In my smiles, your laughter.
For though forgetting stole you away from me,
I am your remembrance.
And while I continue to remember,
Mita,
you remain here.
René is a passionate writer from Managua, Nicaragua, with a deep connection to poetry as a form of reflection and expression. His creativity and curiosity motivate him to channel his life experiences into writing. Through his work, René hopes to positively impact those he encounters and to serve as a source of inspiration.
