I try to find the silence that will bring
the ballad
sung by your heart.
I want to get to the very beginning
of the poem, even though
I know that
I don't feel like smiling.

I don't know how many light years
it will take me to find
your tenderness, the wind
that scatters pale memories.

I want to immerse myself
in the abyss of the body, to taste
the moment that glues our torn wings,
seeks existence
where only desire reaches.

Try to feel what's left of your breath,
to understand the pain
that's bothering you again.
I'm crossing out the last sentence,
it's time to start from
the beginning.

The last star will witness
this year's paradise fall.
I am falling apart into missing pieces,
I am suffocating with light.

My thoughts are adapting
to your arms. I am a guardian
with a treacherously broken pulse.