MY LOVE, I DON'T WANT TO GO

 

-Tell me Thérèse, tell me that you have not forgotten love, besides me, that love is like that, tell me that I have not disappeared from the Sunday afternoon conversations, the stumbles and the graces that came out of my mouth, to make you smile! Tell me girl, tell me that I'm still strong and amazing, that you keep offering me your sweet smile, even when you don't see me, tell me that you keep hugging Ritinha like I used to, that you keep holding her, at the edge of the pool, with her armbands, so that Tomé and Aninhas can invent to splash all the water, for grandma to scold, that it was a lot of water, that they could slip, tell me love of my short life, tell me that the candles continue to burn, when the afternoon wind stagnates in the swing, and that the thirst you had for eternity can be held,  tell me, tell me there, that you're still waiting for him, that he won't be me anymore, tell me if you still believe that he will be true, tell me if Rita already has a boyfriend, if our Rita is thinking about getting married, oh Therese, tell me that you have stopped crying, lulling you in the lies of time, dear, tell me that you still believe that one day we will all be together, at the foot of the little hill, there, where we all snuck so as not to hear grandpa snoring, after lunches late in the afternoon, tell me that you still cut the watermelon into thin slices,   who still throws the seeds over the garden, who still feeds the land with tales and stories so that Rita grows up with memories of the of the family rituals, tell me love, tell me that when the night comes you don't force yourself to listen to music and dance, that you do it because you have winged feet to fly, tell me that you still feel love interposing, entering between the melody with which you waltz, and my name that you continue to spend, tell me Thérèse,  That you won't forget, tell me that you're going to force yourself to take your thoughts to joy, to a hot afternoon, to the continuity of the love that interrupted us, tell me dear, Tell me that it wasn't just me who didn't know how to erase the record of life, that you still dream, that you still have dreams of a girl that you will learn to materialize, tell me my little one, tell me that you will still eat the sardines in your grandmother's patio, tell me that the bread will be wet from the peppers and the fat from the sardines, that your joy will burst in the sky like the fireworks do,  interrupting the pitch black of the night to the river, Tell me that the sky will be filled with balloons and that as soon as you can, you will gather the leeks, the caps and the hammers, that we will dance at the S. Joaninas festivals, there watching the river, leaning at the window of the river, and that you will come to be with me again, and that the stars and candles will engrave in your chest the light of happiness,  tell me that Rita will be happy and have no reason to cry, that you will tell her every day that I am there, even if you cannot see me, tell me that one day you will soon free me from your chest and scratch the sorrow and be left with only the longing. Tell me, please, that I need to know that I am not a sad ghost, that I am still your boy who forgot to wake up.