If God Allows It

For Yasmin M. by Israel Perez-Rosado

We were born beneath the same summer sky,

June 20th, 1991, two heartbeats synchronized.
From that day on, it was written in flame,

That I’d know your soul before I knew your name.

In high school halls, I found a rare kind of peace,
In the way your green eyes gave my storms release.
Black hair cascading, a silent breeze in bloom,
You lit up the room, but it was your silence that moved.

Your soft words were arrows, never loud, always deep,
They pierced past my pride, where my secrets sleep.
With just one glance, you knew my storms inside,
And still, you stayed, gentle, but never blind.

You believed in me when I couldn’t believe,
Your voice, my anchor, when I wanted to leave.
You got stern when I said I wasn’t enough,
And reminded me, love’s not always soft, it’s tough.

We were never lovers in the flesh,
But our love was more than skin could express.
No stolen nights, no tangled sheets,
Just soul-to-soul when our eyes would meet.

I left for war, to wear the green,
You chose the path that kept you unseen.
You became a mother, a wife, a flame,
And though we drifted, I never forgot your name.

Years passed, silence reigned,
But my heart always whispered the same refrain:
If ever again, our stars realign,
Let her be the first and the final sign.

Now here we are, reborn in time,
Older, scarred, but still divine.
You, in another state, me, on my knees,
Praying for a love the world rarely sees.

I was belittled, broken, told I was less,
But you, mi Reina, saw more in my mess.
And now I just want to be the man you deserve,
To give you the peace you always preserved.

So, if God allows, let this be true,
Let my last girlfriend be you.
From hallway stares to final breath,
Let me hold your hand, even in death.