did you see how all these years have split
in a red wall and a highway?
we could save nothing, we only got time to remind
the light’s early hug and the broken silence.

you are spending breaths in this place
frequented by a stranger that has forgotten
his birthplace, and still his eyes
are trying to perceive a white hole in the dark.

life has brought in my blood the spleen
of waking words. things are sliding
behind the curtain and the future throws upon you
a garment you cannot take off.

what kind of wound is the distance that separates us
to preserve the unique flavor of a glance?
what élan is thus meant
to prepare us for the unexpected strike?
we feel bound to obey and still an uninterrupted song
breaks the rules, so we could meet by chance
each time the wind embowels the earth.