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I fell in love with the one I wasn't supposed to fall in love with,
with my heart in a strange flight,
I fell in love with his cheesy, clumsy lyrics,
of his rhymes that sometimes verged on the abyss,
of a crumpled sonnet, of a lost poem,
where love hid behind a lyrical earthquake.
His mismatched poetry, an uncoordinated dance,
a sincere attempt in a world of prose,
where words fell like leaves to the ground,
and that's why, beside him, I felt so blissful.
I fell in love with his chaos, with his beautiful maturity,
of the love it awakens in the crooked lines,
and though I shouldn't have, I can't regret it,
of that love that settles in lost letters.
I fell in love with the wrong person, I know,
but his poetry envelops and embraces me,
in each word of hers, a different world,
and I, a devoted lover, literal and without bail.