miércoles, 18 de abril de 2012


Both chose the table in the hall
and curtains to prevent the passage of light.
But already was there, in silence, the blue vase
with orchids and lilies.
Both walked through the old markets
sniffing on irons and lights, dotted with rust and soot.
But the dishes and pots were years,
days and months of other eyes intertwined.
You and I, in silence, acquire modern additions.
Grey, green and scarlet wore their densities,
their shapes, their bodies.
But the heavy, ornate chair
had shared evenings, summers
White morning of laughter and songs,
dreams that eventually withered away
its light
lips that pleaded and denied.
However we are, you and I,
with little in common and much in distance.
We do not have many memories together
yesterdays and lit in red.
I knew not of your youth or your fantasies.
Nor thou of the mine.
However here we are ...

Del poemario "Yo creo" en preparación.

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