There's anything in vain
In the space between me and you;
A scream in the silence,
Yes and no.
Eventually,
A piece of myself,
Which is only yours,
Is an attempt without
All that trying out.
When I see you,
Staring at me in that way
Seeying in myself
The same thing that I see in yourself,
What is the reason
In measuring the endless of the thirst,
If it cedes the sense
To the sensation?
The illusion
Is the garment that
Makes you come back,
That surrounds me and pours
Tenderness and strive.
When I see you
Staring at me in that way
Seeying in myself
The same thing that I see in yourself...