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Poem

In your absence, a ragged purple dusk stretches over the soul,
And is petrified, reliving at the frozen window of a heart invaded by silence,
I close my eyes, and the air becomes the cold silk of evenings once bright with a star,
While your memory, a sifted cloud, wraps itself gently over times futilely unwound.
I have locked our love in a crypt battered by the wind of thoughts,
Bolted with tears solidified, like diamonds torn from the depths of my being,
I keep it hidden, to pulsate with echoes of a lost laughter, wrapped in darkness,
I stand and wait, like a watchtower, in the unbounded tear of the night.
I count the echoes of silence, which have become my realm of thoughts and undying longing,
The tormentor of yearning awakens echoes and shadows over the shameful palace of memory,
The latch of reality shakes illusions; my hopes swing between fear and fantasy,
And in the flash of a moment, when the light of unrest seems to glimmer, I fall into the void.
Your nearness is a barren vision, fleeting love in the fabric of time that eludes my senses,
The pedal of longing spins the thread in a macabre dance, in the corolla of our separation,
My fingers slide across the walls of nothingness, tracing the shadow of your phantom step,
I try to catch your evanescent whisper on the deaf melody of a petrified world.
Thus flows the river, showing its banks in the absence of your warm droplets,
In the sheath of this icy reality, where are you, ice flower, lost
Generous in waiting, on the ship of desolation, I sail through the ocean without your presence,
Until the sun is born again, perhaps, from the foam left by a wet and strange dream.

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