I am extracting with effort
from the memory season
autumnal tears
cold and warm.

What’s the use, said you,
to cry in so many colors
painting my windows
with the subjective version
of your story ?
And besides this, you can see
how difficult it is to cry them
because barely coming to life
they become stony and fall down.

Therefore I am worried
that my windows will break
and the cold will get inside…
over both of us.

Categories: My Poems in 2008 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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