A poem to Eshley who's a Tv host in Moscow

My belle, my youngest niece Letícia and Eshley 

There's a fact... 
We don't act... 
You asked me this:
- Are you in love for true, Man?
 I've answered you that love for me is always something new... 
 You were staring at me... 
 I took pics of thee... 
 My heart and soul Elena wasn't jealous at all...
 She knows that we're in The Fall and I'm her call...
 You were whispering this to me:
- Come with me, I'll make an interview to both of you as something new... 
 I was staring at a book because Elena was giving me a look... 
 We were on TV, watching the sea and how things used to be... 
 You asked this to her:
- Does he treats you well while you're his belle?
 She told you that love wasn't being a dove... 
 You asked me this:
- Man, will you be my friend?
- Can I feel your left hand?
 I was feeling a bit tired... 
 The night was bright and filled with light... 
 The photoshoot was at end... 
 You told me that you were listening to some Russian band... 
 Our interview was something out of the blue... 
 It wasn't extraordinary... 
 It was true... 
 With Elena by my side we were all inside a ride...
 You told me this:
- Is she your bliss?
- Is she your moment of pride?
 I answered you a simple "yes"... 
We weren't playing chess... 
Our hair wasn't a mess... 
- Doing a rehearsal was being universal... 
I said this to you.
 You asked me this:
- Will I ever see what's inside thee?
- Will I ever visit your birth town wearing a white gown?
 I've answered you that the magic of it is being near the Atlantic ocean and always in motion.