a faded picture
consumed by hopes
softly entrusted
to the wind
a music
far and slight
played by a record
scratched by dust
and time
as the weight of your naked body
over mine
it is now the oppression on my chest
for the lack of  who
should touch it
as the beating of your heart
under  my face
rubbed on your skin
rough and hot
it is now the  arid ticking
of a clock
that relentlessly  articulates
the minutes of our us
without you
as your scent
harsh and intense in my coilings
in my flesh
it is now the salty smell of my tears
impregnated into a pillow
cold and crushed
by the weight of my desolation
as the strength of your back
who supported  my weakness
it is hard today
the regrets wall against which I slam
to escape from the fog
as  your sweet whispers
slipped on my skin
in my hair
it is now icy and lonely
the breath of the night
that  invests me with its petty hissing
as your soft caresses
that insinuated  into my expectations
burned by your touch
it is now violent the hassle
of a  crumpled sheet
that brushes me
wilted and warm
of an unknown  heat
my eyes closed
I meander
lost and exiled
in thoughts imprisoned
in the pages of a diary
tattooed on my skin
until the penultimate page
and then again from the first
in a circle
vicious and delicious
of passion and love and obsession
who lives and relives
until the dawn of a sunset
that should never get
until a last page
deleted
don’t read the end