a single rose could speak.
of the ones that were held between us,
they listened to what we were saying:
they were not a testament of a love,
but maybe they witnessed a beginning...
if a single rose could speak,
from that withering, lonely bouquet,
it would say that
sometimes the breath of the girl that held them
was caught in the petals,
that the thoughts of the boy
were wrapped around the stems,
that the unsaid couple
was trying to trace their start,
that their start began at the end,
that one day, they will reach the finish line,
at the start of that December night,
a year and 2 months ago.

No esperaba y no quería
Rosas de compasión,
Dijiste que eran las gracias
Por lo que hemos pasado.
Me dio risa.
El premio de consolación?

Espera, pero tu cara era tierna,
Y las rosas si me gustan,
Y no fue otra cosa
Sólo tristeza;
En otra relación hubiera sentido
Felicidad y gusto,
Pero contigo solo fue
Otro recordatorio de que
No somos convencionalmente
Lo que yo quiero.

Pero esas rosas
Que yo pensaba despreciar,
Esas rosas me salvaron.
Yo pude hablar.
Y creo que entendimos,
Esta vez nos comprendimos
Y creo que te alcance,
Por fin te llegue.

eres lo mas bellamente triste que me ha pasado
you are the most beautifully sad thing that has happened to me
私へ、あなたが美しく悲しいです

what is making love?
you kissed me,
and you loved my body,
not much different than before...
nothing had really changed,
but then,
why did my heart feel heavy?
even as i shook from the pleasure,
as i clutched for a little restraint,
my grasp weakened:
all i wanted,
was to curl up and cry.
it wasn't love.
i know you need me then.
i know you want me then.
but i need a little more than that:
i am selfish, perhaps.
you kissed the tears away,
not missing a beat....
but i love you,
and it hurts,
to be in your arms,
to be held and to be touched,
without being loved the same way.

Like a stone statue,

But sentient,

Feeling everything and thinking it all;

Frozen in space,

Unable to move, 

Thoughts flowing with each minute;

The words can’t escape my mouth. 

You are beautiful. 

You caress my face,

Kiss the tips of my cold fingers,

And the feelings bounce around my throat: 

I can’t say what I need to say.

I am of stone.

I am unable to speak, to move;

It is essential I tell you this, however:

Though I love you,

Though we will yearn,

Though you make me less of this marble statue,

And a little more rose-cheeked human,

I can no longer remain yours.

I need you to listen,

Inside the marble rib cage

It beats loud and quickly:

My heart says 
I love you, 

The way the snow falls: 

Quietly, steadily, purely. 

I need you to see, 

My eyes they speak truth:

I need more than the sadness,

More than the tears your kisses draw,

I need you unabashedly.

I am of stone.

I cannot speak and I cannot move. 

But inside I am of feelings,

I am of thoughts.

I am breaking piece by piece,

And one day I will reach you.

This unspoken, unmoving

Love will touch you,

It will move you.