I am so far from dreaming about
a cursed heart. That's how far away
is the star that will be
the last to go out.

The uncertainty of your words
hurts me - even more than thoughts
that are lost in a moment.
Drop by drop, melancholies collide,
freshly conceived, still purple.

I dream of your memories,
I recall sadness that died in silence.
Darkness curses my cry,
the entirety of the sky
finds a mirror in your mind.

I don't hear the sound of the wind
that brings me close to your scent,
your taste, in which I still find myself.

I curse the times in which
I sought salvation.
I agree with the promise that everyone
has their own shadow.

A part of the future will forever
remain at the bottom of tenderness.
The otherness of tomorrow
will only give a few tears
that are too blue.

I will find in you the longing for which
everyone still goes to sleep.
Where do you look for words
to find your thoughts?

Or maybe it's the lack of satisfaction
that makes us disappear
into the distance, fall apart?