Wordless, I sit here quietly searching for myself in you
as I feel that my dream doesn’t remember me anymore.
My poems dissolved me in despair, metaphors I ignore
in this time of sacrifice, in this moment of burnt roses.

Anesthetized, I bleed sipping my imaginary hot coffee
while I can even see the fiery kisses I blew you in the air.
I guess I was happy when the smoke embraced your hands,
I could even feel I was going to lose your different game.

Those moments of beauty awakened my restless soul.
The fires of my body called for your intense flames
as my savage heart was being tamed beautifully by time.
Those moments almost violated my own desire and lust.

Now I fill my airless room with some Debussy or Chopin,
watching silently my defeat, my only one weird heaven.
I bury my face in the past as I see what you are offered
wondering how many times you lied to my blind soul.

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