THE BOOKS OF MY LIFE

The time passed like a sigh,
but everything changed under each different look,
each space filled with letters,
those that still nourish my story.

A life passed, but the memory didn't pass,
because between making love to a thousand books,
every love was engraved in my heart,
like that memory that a child of his father kept.

The forged adventures of stories are marked,
while the drama is confused with reality
and from among those self-improvement books
I get to the reason for my actions.

When terror freezes my veins,
between those moments that you don't expect,
but that make you feel a little more alive,
There I remember that my horror books on my shelf are there.

Now among science fiction I can get on my ship,
Go through the universe to get to you,
making this pencil the link tunnel
that unites my soul with yours in a stroke.

Dust is the mark of lost books
and the covers worn out by the use are the mark of the experience.
Because there is no bad book,
but not all people are compatible with certain books.