They call me crazy,
because I want to love again.

I want a good love,
the one that brightens your mornings.

When the nights are short,
between laughter and laughter.

The one that when the wounds are scraped,
you talk.

The one that motivates you to get out of bed,
with the plan of going to the moon.

It whispers "I love you" in your ear,
because only you should know.

The one that just a glance,
says everything and says nothing.