and start
my days
to you.

and I stole a kiss;

for there is no truer poetry
than the one made with our meeting lips.

But all I want

Is to make another memory

with you.

I thought your smile
was a fence;
and so,
I tried to climb it.


Now my legs ache,
and my hands drip red
from the cuts of the attempt.

What hurts the most
is realizing that I --
standing behind a velvet rope --
have been left dumbfound, staring
at art
I simply will never understand.

With a defeated sigh
you fell back on the grass
and I followed, as I always did,
with my eyes fixed on your lips.

If you had asked me for a solution
I could not have given you one.
All I simply wanted
was to silence your
worrying lips
with a kiss.

You said that your eyes
were fixed on the horizon
as your hands quietly
slipped from my grasp.

Today,
and possibly for a while,
my eyes will be fixed
on the ground.

...I answer

"I think the lines
on my forehead
must have been
paved by your
farewells."

You trace
your fingers
on what
you promise
is the
last one;
I close my eyes and try to engrave on my mind
this beautiful moment,
knowing it won't be so and thinking they are worth it.