With the excuse of knowing
How you are,
I want that at the whisper of my voice
In the pavilion of your ears
You lower the locks
And let in the phonemes
That emerge from my heart
So that they coil
Like a snail
In the core of your reason.
There in the corner of your senses,
May the murmur of my trills
Be a portentous river
That descends to your eardrums.
I long for my clamor to be the boat
That calmly moves
On the calm surface
Of the tranquil lake of your thoughts.
Convince you to meet me
With my words
Like soft rain on the meadow,
Like birds swooping down
To embroider waves on the tide.
May you understand once and for all
That, in your absence, my nest
Becomes chaos,
A labyrinth of disorder
From which i find no way out,
And i plunge irremediably
Towards the point of no return
In the land of sadness.
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