Spring is here,

and we applaud her

from our windows and balconies,

Without realizing it,

that autumn he left

no goodbye,

without hug,

not a kiss in the wind.

We came to the sweet house

and the four walls of our house

became chains,

who imprisoned us

behind the doors,

without being capable of the joys

in the shadows

of drawn curtains.

They left,

unable to say

Goodbye!

Without reproach,

not a tear,

nor waking up at night

in front of their body,

without flower aroma

of cemeteries.

They left,

and fish birds

wanted to circulate in their memory,

U.S. too,

from our windows and balconies,

we are silent.

We were just scared ...

 My memory is faded and moments with you are lost.

Like when we went on a tour and a storm changed our plans, and we left and went, where?

I do not remember.

Once again, you came to my job without waiting for us and we left together and went, where?

I do not remember.

In a perfume shop, I tried to remember your perfume, what was it?

I do not remember.

My heartbeat for you was the first to go away.

Without you, I have no sail because of a heartbeat.

For no reason I learned to live.

Your pictures, I try to see every day.

Don't wake up one morning and remember, I am definitely lost.

I understand the time that fades the memories.

I understand the body, the heart, and the feelings that they have received, that you will never come back.

I also understand the people around me who want to give me new experiences.

Everything will change and everything will be forgotten.

Only your footprint on my body.

Only my footprint on yours.

Only these will be held because we have lived together, and when they will not be erased.

 Wander the deserts

thirsty for verbs and adjectives

words with meanings

of a monologue

In the middle of nowhere,

slip in deserted areas

from dehydrated areas

where the master is absent

continues with the attitude of a hermit,

forgetting the old ways

the familiar gestures

that permeate humanity.

Because life is more than nothing

floods like rain,

crawls like lava

redeemed hearts.

In the dark

room next to the dining room,

my grandmother hid her treasures.

Hidden in its aged trunk,

ripe bananas, pears

and fragrant green apples slipping from the old cart.

The memory crawls

like a snake on the stove,

potatoes are cooked,

burning logs,

the dark room is a kingdom,

a golden refuge,

an area where fear does not exist.

 Although the body is a prison,

And they strike relentless viruses

I applaud the spaces of my freedom,

the moments of reading

alone with a book,

with thoughts waving,

sleepy,

surprises are suspended,

a fountain dripping tears,

time limitation,

a cloud dances without permission,

a sound of troubled dogs,

looking forward to spring,

all the unexpected

adds to the space of my freedom