I was young then

I was young then, unloaded,

eager to face the world.

He was much older, eroded,

a bit wrinkly on his forehead...

But oh, so wise!

A wizard in disguise

of a handsome Spaniard.

Our nights were long, never ending

passion was sending us waves

of self-doubt, trials of understanding

what loving meant, of awakening,

defending one's core, of unpretending,

of no more condescending, and so much more.

The nights were dreamlike,

while re-enacting this old game,

again, again, each time renewed.

And when we said and did 

what had been done before,

and our mutual exploring eagerly continued,

both felt the same.

I don't remember much

of those days lost and gone, 

but for one moment, when dawn broke

and suddenly a lonely nightingale evoke

in me a melancholic feeling,

a message in the night, forlorn, revealing 

that I had finally grown up, alone,

and should prevail with life, all on my own….