¿Recuerdas esta foto? Aunque me dolía la espalda y los ojos, nunca lograbas capturarlos. Todo era siempre una excusa. Para vernos.
Siempre terminaba enfadada, antes veías el mundo con la cantidad justa de color. Entre pinceladas y mezclas de colores, solías sonreír cuando te decía que te estaba tomando el pelo.
Ahora te has ido.
La muerte altera todo el verde y el azul. Me queda un gris desesperado flotando alrededor de mis labios. Puedo evocarte como un pez, un delfín, sentir tu ligereza, aún rozando mis labios. Pero era torpe, tosías todo el tiempo. La vida se te escapaba, mientras querías desesperadamente terminar mi cuadro.
En mi soledad, son como la hiedra, como si recorriera ortigas para ver tus cuadros, solo tu sonrisa me llenaba.
Era feliz y nunca te lo dije.
La noche esparcía jazmines, era tu flor favorita. Me besaste despacio. Después de las quejas, fui a mi habitación. No me gustaban las manchas en mis ojos. Ahora recuerdo verter los colores en el jardín, mordiéndome los labios. Pero pude ayudarte, soportar juntos la agonía. Debiste dejar de respirar junto a la chimenea, intentando pedir ayuda. Pero yo seguía enfadada, arriba en la habitación, con mis dudas, pensando en el cuadro.

Do you remember this photo? Even though my back and eyes hurt, you never managed to capture them. Everything was always an excuse. To see us.
I always ended up angry, you used to see the world with just the right amount of color. Between strokes and blends of colors, you used to smile when I told you how I was teasing you.
Now you're gone.
Death disrupts all the green and blue. I'm left with a desperate gray hovering around my lips. I can evoke you like a fish, a dolphin, feel your lightness, still brushing my lips. But I was clumsy, you coughed all the time. Life was slipping away from you, while you desperately wanted to finish my painting.
In my solitude, they're like ivy, as if I were going through nettles to see your paintings, only your smile filled me.
I was happy and I never told you.
The night scattered jasmines, it was your favorite flower. You kissed me slowly. After the complaints, I went to my room. I didn't like the stains on my eyes. Now, I can remember pouring the colors on the garden, biting my lips. But I was able to help you, endure the agony together. You must have stopped breathing by the fireplace, trying to call for help. But I was still angry, upstairs in the room, with my doubts, thinking about the painting.

I read @wakeupkitty's story, and this story came to mind, which can be taken as a response.

kitty text

@solperez, @aneukpineung78

Se agradece un voto para su testigo más joven @wakucat .
https://auth.steem.fans/sign/account-witness-vote?witness=wakucat&approve=1