Evaporated in a red cloud
in one of the many slits of the night
with a need for attention and love
too much, "If you love me, cry"
to be reciprocated ,
It was worth enjoying the summer evenings
with a very simple "I remember":
to watch you rent a kilo of grass
to retired farmers and their women
/>and generously give oceans
and other waves to the sailors on duty,
until I discover your hiding places one by one
without regretting my credulity:
why? already? from the first trench
I was more? curious about you,
I was much more? curious about you.
And then surprised by your "How are you"
astonished by less common and more? ferocious,
like "How do you feel friend, fragile friend,
if you want I can take care of you for an hour a month"
"You know that I have lost two children"
"Madam, you are a rather distracted woman."
And still killed by your courtesy
in the hour in which a dream of mine
second row dancer,
was agitated for who knows? what future
her present of enormous breasts
and her fresh caesarean section,
I thought? nice that where my fingers end
a guitar must somehow begin.
And then sitting in the midst of your goodbyes,
I felt less tired than you
I was much less tired of you.
I could tease the stranger's trousers
until her mouth opens wide.
I could ask any of my children
to speak badly and loudly about me again .
I could have exchanged my guitar and his helmet
for a wooden box that said "we will lose".
I could have asked what your dog's name is.
Mine? a little time called Free.
I could hire a cannibal a day
to teach me my distance from the stars.
I could cross liters and liters of coral
to reach a place that was called: "goodbye".
And it never occurred to me,
to be more? drunk of you
to be much more? drunk with you.

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