This body is not mine.
It belongs to another time,
it belongs to the living statues
in the rain-soaked streets,
it belongs to mute manikins
feigning beauty;
it belongs to the old faces
that line my dreams,
that elude my touch,
that fade to elements of shapes
and voices, now but passing seconds
of memories lost.

This aeon is not mine.
I belong to another time,
I belong to the mountain's edge
and paradise beach,
I belong to locked diaries
feigning secrets;
I belong to the strong women
that better my mind,
that elude my touch,
that burn to elements strong
and sentiments echoed eternally
in memories never lost.