an icy mist
cover with his linen cloak
the narrow and dark alleys
where cashmere rascals
exercise their circus arts
between oil lamps
whispering promises of brownish tone ...
the sad sound of guitars playing softly
echoes in unison with the melancholy melodies
intoned by fadistas
perpetuating the fate of unhappy loves
in a silence made of black satin
and cold marble ...
like a mere shadow
I wander through the night,
ignored and ignoring,
lost in thoughts embittered by the weight of your absence,
by the noise of your silence ...
the pain of longing fills me
with the moments that we did not live
in a love that remains unfulfilled,
longing for a simple crumb of your attention
that attenuates the fire that thorns me ...
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