In some very old mail, I found a poem. I still like it, reading it after such a long time, so I am posting it here.
Almost Love
Magaly Sanchez, Cuba
(translated by Margaret Randall)
It happens sometimes; a pair of eyes a profile
someone we don't know and see only once
or every afternoon.
Someone we met, it
was just like that:
a hand on yours
some hasty words.
But someone who
became a part of you
and now there's no seeing that face
without paling
without trembling hands
and it's almost love.