i wish that i could tell you about the man i love
he has eyes like the sky on a bright Sunday morning
his smile is like fireflies and his laughter like fireworks
and his hands were made to heal
wounds and wreckages
i wish that i could tell you about the man i love
about his voice so sweet, about the way his shoulders
are built to give me shelter, and to keep me from drowning
i wish that i could tell you about the man i love
about his silly jokes, about his love of language
about the endless kindness of his bruised, tender heart
about the way his face lights up when he sees me
about the way his hands light me up like a fire
i wish that i could tell you about the man i love
but he’s not mine to keep or to lose or to share
so i must hold this love tight and close like a secret
waiting until the day it will run out of
air.
Photo by Isai Ramos on Unsplash
Marianne Díaz Hernández (Altagracia de Orituco, Venezuela, 1985). Lawyer, writer and researcher in the intersection between human rights and technology. She has published: Cuentos en el espejo (Monte Ávila Editores, Caracas, 2008, winner of the Contest for Unpublished Authors of Monte Ávila Editores, Narrative), Aviones de papel (Monte Ávila Editores, Caracas, 2011) and Historias de mujeres perversas (El perro y la rana, Caracas, 2013, winner of the I Gustavo Pereira National Biennial of Literature, 2009), and has also been part of the compilations Antología sin fin (Escuela Literaria del Sur, 2013), Voices from the Venezuelan City (Palabras errantes, 2013) , and Nuevo País de las Letras (Banesco, Caracas, 2016). She co-founded the small press Casajena Editoras. Pieces of her work have been translated into English, French and Slovenian. She currently resides in Santiago de Chile.