PaperBoat

He

who has loved you

like you only know.

On starry nights,

Inside the ocean that keeps his secret,

He has written pages

and made paperboats.

They have crossed unknown ships

and sleeping fishes.

They have reached the shore

where you played.

He had these sad eyes.

A sadness that is part of him,

So much his, that melancholy could be his mascara.

You had it in too.

You were afraid, you were like him.

Life has counted fallen springs.

On winters where fireplace has burned woods,

you have burned the boats

One night at a time.

Because you knew

his love was like a dawn or a twilight.

So beautiful, so calming

That it always had the Sun,

but never quite, never in full.

...