MAQ/November 2018 / 07
You come back every night ...
and the rainbow come back with you
as the splendid effusions,
when being together was true love and rhyme
and every moment was
full of hopes and kisses.
Now the memories are alone, on the top
of that nothing we called eternity ...
Memories! ... Raptors
birds in the rain of my days,
in the storms of old age,
in the wind that goes away, without returns.
Only you come back, tired,
every evening, always ... In the white canvas
patiently and inexorably waiting for me
it remains the adorable
and silly reasoning on the future
of the two of us, like a fleeting
sob in the dark ...
Before it cuts, shining, the blade ...
and look beyond the canvas of life.