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Sorrow and what isn't sorrow, Llorona,
Everything is sorrow to me,
Yesterday I was crying to see you, Llorona
And today I cry because I saw you.
.
.
He is freezing cold the first time he sees her.
He lies in a bed of sweat damped sheets while tremors rack his frail body.
His mother places a cold damp cloth over his forehead and whispers sweet encouraging words but he is unable to understand a single thing she says.
His dark eyes are fixed on her.
Her dress is almost as white as her skin.
Pale limbs move towards him and red fiery hair blows slightly in the chilly wind.
Something inside him whispers he should be afraid but he isn’t.
His lips parts slightly as she settles on the bed on the other side of him.
Her pale hand reaches towards him at the same time as his mother’s only hers settle on his cheek instead of his forehead.
“I think the fever is starting to break” His mother whispers to someone in the room
His eyes remain locked on her blue ones.
Her hand is cold in his skin.
Her gaze icy as she stares down at him
“Not today” The words leave her lips and he almost weeps at the beautiful tune of her voice.
“Why not?” He asks although he isn’t sure the words are spoken out loud.
“Because it makes me sad”
Woe to me, Llorona, Llorona,
Llorona of sky blue,
And, although it costs me my life, Llorona
I will not stop loving you.
.
His body recovers but his mind remains haunted by the image of the woman at the foot of his bed.
Whenever he closes his eyes he sees her.
He feels her.
He wants to be scared but he isn’t.
He longs for her, craves her cold touch.
He wants to see her one last time.
He almost wishes he was succumbing to fever once again
Anything for the chance to stare into her blue eyes once more.
.
I don't know what's wrong with the flowers, Llorona,
The flowers at the cemetery,
When the wind moves them, Llorona,
It seems that they're crying.
.
His sister is the one in bed the next time he sees her.
He is holding her frail hand when he sees the red haired woman sitting next to his sister in the same way she did with him.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t utter a word on fear she might go.
His mother and father cry the foot of the bed but he seems to be the only who can see her.
She strokes the dying girl’s hair tenderly before giving him a regretful look.
He is lost in her blue cold eyes and only comes back to his senses when he sees her leaning towards his sister.
Her red plump lips press against the other girl’s lips briefly before she pulls away and he feels his sister’s hand fall from his grasp.
.
They say I do not mourn, Llorona,
Because they don't see me cry.
There are dead people who do not make noise, Llorona,
And their pain is much greater!
.
He is sleepless months after his sister’s passing.
Whenever he closes his eyes he sees her.
He isn’t afraid of her.
He wants her red lips on him
Just once, he wants to know what it feels to be kissed by her.
.
I climbed the highest pine tree, Llorona,
To see if I could spot you,
Since the pine was very tender, Llorona,
Upon seeing me cry, it cried too.
.
Months turn into years and at last he forgets about her.
Or at least he thinks he does.
He marries and father’s children.
He watches loved ones come and go but he never sees her again.
He convinces himself he doesn’t want to see her anymore.
But sometimes at night he dreams about her blue eyes.
Sometimes at nights he finds himself longing for her lips on him.
Just once
Woe to me! Llorona, Llorona,
Llorona take me to the river,
Cover me with your shawl, Llorona,
Because I'm dying of cold
He is lying on his bed once again when he finally see her.
He’s a man of seventy.
His once dark hair is completely white now and his face no longer holds the innocence of youth but she is still the same.
Her white dress moves as she walks towards him.
Her fiery red hair grazes his arm as she leans towards him.
“It still makes me sad” She whispers into his ear before straightening up and moving away from him.
His hand shots up to her and he grabs her cold pale arm.
“Please” He whispers “I just want to feel it once”
She smiles sadly before sitting at the side of his bed like she did the first time he saw her.
“I’ve dreamt about you” He wants to say but doesn’t need to, because she cups his face and looks at him as if somehow she knows.
Her cold hand caresses him gently until he closes his eyes.
A soft gentle tune leaving her lips in the most precious melody
Then he feels it
Soft plump lips above his
Pace and fulfillment filling every space of his body as he moves his lips against hers
“At last” He thinks
This is all I need he whispers to himself as the final breath leaves his body.
Two kisses I keep in my soul, Llorona,
That don't stray far from me.
The last one of my mother, Llorona,
And the first one I gave to you.