I always wanted to learn to play the piano
and to bake a soufflé without it deflating

I always wanted to make soap bubbles
and put smoke inside them
my smoke from that hidden vape
that once came and is now gone

Like love and heartbreak
like almost everything

I always wanted to make a kite myself with tissue paper
and fly it with one hand
and in the other hand
hold a little girl
with her gaze lost in the sky

I have always also wanted
to sing a love song in an empty stadium
to climb a very tall mountain
and bury there so many letters I once wrote

I always wanted to learn to hold back tears
and to let out laughter
I always wanted to learn to make knots
to paint with watercolors
to bind book covers
with threads that don’t tangle
that cut without pain
threads that are colorful
threads
about which I know a lot
and nothing

I always wanted to learn to cook
to dance tango
to take photos
I always also wanted to be able to fill an agenda
and stop using post-its
I always wanted to write a letter to my father

I always wanted to have a tattoo on my arm
to touch the spines of a porcupine
to extinguish candles with the touch of my fingers
to ride an elevator up and down a thousand times
to feel my stomach stick to my heart

I always wanted to toast with forgetfulness
and not think about memory during New Year’s dinner

I always wanted not to fall in love once more
and I always wanted to fall in love again
once more
like always
so many times
perhaps the real
will be this time

I also wanted to have long hair
longer legs
a deeper voice
the perfect accent

I always wanted to take a plane without luggage
not to think about stamps, permits, and lawyers

I always wanted to have a vegetable garden
and make a summer salad with it

I always wanted to learn to ski
and to play poker
without an ace up my sleeve
and I always wanted to know
if there were culprits
if there were traps
or if we’re all simply innocent
like children playing
at all this
which sometimes
on some days
while I watch the sea
becomes nothing

And I always wanted
for someone to come from far away
wanting a hug
I want to see their handwriting
to laugh at my voice
to learn from their quirks

And I always wanted
to write a numbered balance
on a holiday like today

But to this day
I don’t know how to play the piano
I don’t know to dance tango
I don’t know to make soufflés
I haven’t climbed that mountain
and those letters I burned on the rooftop of my house
one visiting day
one of so many Decembers.

And I still haven’t learned to paint with watercolors
or to paint the drizzle over the desert
or my swollen heart

Although I carry so many things
painted under my skin.

I don’t have long hair
I have a voice almost like a student’s.
and I always travel on round-trip flights
with a passport full of stamps
with a suitcase loaded with useless things

And I still don’t know how to play poker
and I might have the face
while I hold back laughter
when I explain math and don’t believe any of it
I might have the poker face
when I look in the mirror
of empty elevators
and tell myself that forgetfulness is possible
but those letters to my father
tell me it’s not

Even though sometimes
I can’t hold back the tears

and I keep falling in love
every time dawn breaks
only to go to sleep thinking
of the shape of your eyes
and wake up again
with a slow song in my head
and without you anywhere
and not care about anything
not even you

And so far
I don’t write an agenda either
I don’t write anything
except this
which isn’t even
a numbered balance
like the one I always
wanted to write
on a holiday like this