Letter Тo April

Don't make me so soft... I don't feel like falling in love. Or at least not yet. Not now. Now it's beautiful for me to get lost in the quiet paths of the night. To meet myself. To love myself. To forgive myself. And to leave. To be me. To be nobody. And precisely for that to be happy. Sow me just a few dandelions, and then wrap them in winds. So that they can cry out my most difficult secret fears, the longest silences of love and the most unspoken pain for me. Dream me poems. And artists. But, please, don't make me so soft :)