“
And yet
I do not regret even a little
being myself, being what I am,
I who speak too much, I who laugh too much,
and continue to smile, digging into gazes without restraint.
I who scream and cry,
and desperately cling to certain childish illusions.
I truly do not regret even a bit of the incomprehensible mess I am today.
I go back to admiring the stones the sea leaves on the shore,
smoothed by the patient water, pale in the waning moon.
Finally, I do not regret my days, gathered in a logbook,
which I continue to write with neat handwriting,
until I have seas to sail and skies to tell about.
Let me know if you need any adjustments!
