clouds

After your mouth,
is full of questions,
and warm voices without echo,
end the pallor of silence,
in the last lethargy that leaves,
in suspense the sunset curtain.
Flocks of passing clouds,
they will play with the whims,
that nest in your mind,
when your shadow,
occupy the length of the path,
announcing you without naming you
And in the concave foolishness of oblivion,
look in vain for that moment,
that was left hanging by a thread.
The precise place of reunion,
betray what was your departure,
we will see who we are,
knowing what we were,
and the perpetual light of nostalgia,
will erase our wrinkles with mercy,
to return me to my days,
The sweet routine of having you near.