If you're gonna love me in spurts
you'd better not love me,
because a tired heart
can't stand waiting.
I want your laughter at dawn
and your hugs in the evening,
that love is not a calendar
where the hours are bullets that burn.
I don't want love of seasons,
with a sun that hides in the mist,
nor shadows that play in silent nights,
but a flame that burns, that never breaks.
Love me on cloudy days
in the storms, in the calm,
in the fights where the wind
carries away the pain, and the soul returns.
Love me always, without reservation or doubt,
that love is a journey that never tires.