I don't love you as if you are a rose of salt, taupe-as, or arrow-carnations that propagate fire. I love you as one love certain obscure things, secretly between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom but carries the light of those flowers hidden within itself. And thanks to your love, the tighter aroma that arose from the earth lives dimly in my body. I love you without knowing how or when or from where. I love you directly without problems or pride. I love you like this because I don't know any other way to love, except in this form in which I am not nor are you. So close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close to your eyes close with my dreams. The love is to destroy me. You love me, so I love you too, now like.