I am on facebook. After a milonga, after a festival, after a weekend of crazy fun, I am on facebook. Trying to run the beautiful events of the recent past in my mind in an effort not to forget them, in fact, to re-live them, to put them in shuffle and replay in my mind, over and over and over. Like a drug...

I also develop these crushes on those moments where I have the perfect connection. The beautiful tandas, the mutual understanding of music, the synchronized smiles... How can I not. Completely platonic, harmless, and like every crush, ephemeral...

I do not want the weekend to end. I do not want the tanda to end, I do not want the festival to end. Sometimes I wonder: is this what it will feel like when I am dying? Am I going to be left with this feeling of increasing emptiness in my heart, the void left by ever-fleeting moments of joy, here now, gone next... Am I going to yearn for life and will not want it to end? And does this mean that every time I end a beautiful tanda, every time I leave your embrace, every time I come back from a festival, or a great milonga, every time we say good bye, I die a little?

Missing...

I miss you
Like my eyelids miss each other
Like there is no tomorrow and no hope of seeing you
I miss you and I miss me
Because when I miss you I don't have me here
When I miss you my head spins
From lack of you running in my veins
My breath comes to shallows of my dreams where I chase your shadow
My hands grow numb, not remembering your touch
I miss you like there was no togetherness
The idea of you fades away
I grow dull, gray, and ordinary
And I find you again
Like water in desert
Like a friend in foreign lands
Like a cool shadow in hot summer noon
Like two hands clapping
Like salt and sand on a beach
Like monday and tuesday....