by Imelda Morales Aznar
I sing because of your heart-shaped hands, I sing
Because of the folds in your skin. They catch
My kisses the way leaves drink sunshine and I sing
Because you’re fragrant as a dream
Of cotton and wisps of foggy air
At dawn. Because it feels as if
I’m holding a cloud when I put your foot
On my palm, I sing.
If I put my cheek near your little lips I’m kissed
By the gentlest, sweetest breath. I sing
Because your laughter is a song whose chords
Play in my heart. Your smile, pure miracle
Blossoming before me, makes me sing.
And I’m warmed to my soul by your gentle eyes
Whose depths cradle sparks of sweet days coming,
And I sing for the perfectness of things.