I hope the leaves do not touch your body when they fall
So that you don’t turn them into crystals;
I hope the rain quits being a miracle
That runs through your body.
I hope the moon can rise without you
I hope the earth does not kiss your steps.
I hope your constant look ends,
Your precise words and your perfect smile as well.
I hope something happens that erases you soon:
A blinding light, a shot of snow.
I hope that at least death can take me away
To not see you so much, to not see you forever.
In every second, in every vision:
I hope I can not even touch you in songs
I hope that the aurora does not yell shouts that drop on my back,
I hope that your name is forgotten by that voice.
I hope the walls don’t retain your sound of tired paths,
I hope that desire goes after you.
This, to your old government of deceased and flowers.
p.m.s.r
luis
