A vow
that turned out to be a fugitive promise,
a look, that turned out to be a lie,
a panorama, that was like a brushstroke,
that gave an organdi transfer to the afternoon.
Roses juice
that God watered on your roads,
divine lips that I kissed,
only the afternoon was left
from your vows,
the fugitive sensation
of a kiss that is not to come back,
The fugitive sensation
of a long kiss
that flees, the fugitive
sensation of a long kiss
that escaped me.
Roses juice
that God watered on your roads,
divine lips that I kissed.
The fugitive sensation
of a long kiss
that flees, the fugitive
sensation of a long kiss
that escaped me.