Today I am going to let me pass.
I will not do anything
to change the course of my day,
I will not seek to direct my future.
Nor will I invoke the magic of your eyes,
nor the subtle spell of your hands.
Today, I will only try
the soft winds that blow from the west,
and I will rise to the limit of my resistance.
I will close my eyes and plan
remembering the last image of your smile,
when we said we loved each other
and everything was fine.
I'm going to play projecting
my shadow on the slopes of the Andes,
on the buildings of your city,
on the steps of Chichen-Itzá,
on the images of the alienated.
today someone will see me
and you will want to be in my place,
as well as others will wish to lower me
for obscene exhibition of my freedom.
I try to sculpt these stories
on the stones of the river
farm other wall clocks
to stop time
and not give birth to poems
that hurt to the touch
of your skin in my wounds.
I try to change songs
not to see you in silence
deliver my shadows
to the dream catcher
hanging from your hugs.
I try to serve a tea
without looking at the sky
then i realize
that I do not have
porcelain cups
or if
but they are love stories
lost in a forest
where i can't breathe
without your kisses