tired of looking
I close my eyes to see,
I look for you in the swarm
of the shadows.
You don't know what I'm writing to you,
You don't know, for the umpteenth time,
and I don't know if you care.
I have the feeling
what can I fit
in those kisses,
and the unbearable need
to thread my hours
with your thought/memory.
Every time I move
I feel pieces that move,
they settle inside,
and a new game is inaugurated.
You are the Lady, dressed in black,
in my biodegradable dream.
And I don't know if I am
on the board.