Like holding a handful of white secrets from a cloud, seeing it vanishing like a ghost between our fingers, we wish to kiss it goobye, feel the last of it on our cheek, expecting our ear to capture that last exhalation of a vanishing love..

She told me so many secrets and yet,
I don’t know if she ever opened her heart,
pain was there, in every written word
and that her tears were genuine no doubt,
but as I walked those seashore’s sands
something was missing, was very afar,
lips that promised the most tender kisses
whispered words not heard by any other man.

Absence, she wasn’t there and she was,
because I felt an agonizing yearn in my arms
trying to make herself a small frighten bird
as I was kicking the sands, she was at my side;
in my pocked the imprinted copy of a poem
filling with words of love my cupped hands,
like, with a movement of thirsty passion
taken the waters of an illusion that’s going by.

I had you in my thoughts and yet couldn’t
remember if we had meet before, a long time
ago, when we painfully needed of each other
to disperse shadows of sadness with a little light;
don’t know when and where I began to love you
but I did when I thought that my heart was dry,
like the leaves of autumn desperately falling
as bitter tears of solitude, in a suicidal good-bye.

Yes, then I though that palm trees were friends
and the beach’s sands represented your smiles,
with the sea waters drops you many sorrow tears
that I never saw but in the windmills of my mind;
witches hours that are hiding inside so many clocks
which will be never be found in any other dark night
or will tell me with their silence of a vanishing love,
that you wished to give, but the distance was too wide.