27 abril 2019


Groping, with the heart in both hands,
tripping over benches and chairs,
falling into the ditches of the past,
I'm trying to find the chink,
the halo of light that guides me to your smile.

I wait, I just wait, for the darkness to light up,
with that backlight, the only light,
to follow her until I find you,
to stop before you and wait for the word,
the smile, the desire, the kiss and the caress.

Then I will leave your heart on the mark,
where the cracks of oblivion meet,
where memories want to go out and come out
are devoured by sunlight,
where guilt hides behind rocks 
sought forgiveness,
where lies are buried
under seven meters of apology,
there I'll leave you my heart,
waiting for the embrace that opens the green doors
and dream for being and for being.

Groping, one step and then another,
conscious of the harsh taste of the past,
of the madness that stampedeed out
through the alleys of disagreement,
I'm groping, I'm looking for you, and I don't know if I can find you.

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