I've outgrown my own imagination and spent my youth on what was not yet needed. Maybe an escape will steal from the present the little bits of the past i've left behind. Here i'll be cheerful, imaginative and cheifly inconsistant. I might get gloomy though... Hopefully untied to myself.
Monday, November 20, 2006
poema 53
Hagámonos creer que ya no me importas
vamos a confesar que el amor se perdió
aceptar que las memorias han caído en algún abismo.
Ignoremos pues que tu memoria aquella caverna llenó,
que aquel amor es ahora dolor,
que no me importa verte sentada ahí.
Tan solo tratemos de enfocar el espacio en blanco a tu lado,
el espacio donde no estoy yo.
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