He is not tormented by the future
and in its tracks it has left a dark past,
he has only the present in which he lives dreaming,
he does not fear the so-called loneliness,
but he serves coffee to accompany it
is so unpredictable that his words have no limits,
your mind is open to great feats
and its letters reach the mountains,
talking about life and love has gotten into my guts,
he carries mystery both in his voice and in his kisses,
mysteries of love and mysteries of dreams.
He with his humanity is doing my naivety,
and with his departure he has taken my life.
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From @andreamsulba