The sentences are mine
The truths are yours
While I want you
I see myself crying in the middle of the street
I kiss your smile on a sunny day
That enters by the door
And sings by the window
The night, mother of the day
Used to water your mouth
On the language of poetry
Oh, my great love made of lost verses
Whispering in the rain as in a chorus
That only makes sense
On the bed