Tick ​​tock...
the quadrangular clock
on the table,

I feel cold in my head
i remember little,
i feel something

Understanding you is difficult
love you even more
how to make everything work?
How to ensure that nothing ends?

my poetry awaits you
my fingers tremble,
I am cold
I can endure..
I can wait.

I hear your steps
the door open
my heart revives
my pains stop

Your eyes pierce me
and it doesn't hurt
How weak can one person be in front of another?

I'm surviving
to my imaginations and
stormy memories
Yes... you are still in them,
You are still there even if I don't see you.

The end of a poem
can be in many...