You can barely see
the mark that was left
the skin on the skin
a path that is now barely visible in me.
Only one love was left
of a postcard
and all the immensity
that I saw in your eyes
that barely goes away.
And I live like this, anonymous
Trying to forget.
And in my days
if you are not here
the winter does not find an end
and the rain does not know how to stop.
The poetry dwells in me
that you left when you left .
Where are you.
Thirsty was
the skin on the skin
like the sea was
when licking the salt
that gave it flavor.
And I live like this, anonymous
impossible to forget
and in my days
if you are not
in my hands they will not flourish
the caresses that for you will be
perhaps the most beautiful memory
that I can keep from living.
Where are you.

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