I see you
in the cold that curtails my soul
and breaks through the side
of my numbed hope
uselessly waiting for you
in the acrid winter of loneliness
where you left me clinging to your oblivion.

I called you
and your silence has the taste of goodbye
impotent, black, moribund
who escaped from your wounding eyes
that cloudy instant
that I took your hand to hold you
while you got lost
in the feverish scent of nostalgia.

I Caress your memory
and a rare melody emerges
that I had never seen,
is the sound of one “I love you”

that was tattooed in the blood
with the indelible promise
of waiting you forever
in the golden and timid breeze
of a blessed autumn
that inspirits the fire of your return
with scraps of tears
that my hands have woven for you.

The night is sad
and caresses my wound…