Fugitive those words that escaped us by shutting that night,
when the weight of our shadows became unbearable.
Fugitive desire to own your mouth, and make it part of me, own your being.
Fugitive your voice, which whispered music when you kissed my ears.
Fugitive the promises that we swear to fulfill:
you promised that you would never leave and I promised I would never let you go.
We fail, we fail again.
Another goodbye that we have to face, another bullet to the heart.
That feeling of a slow death, again. And that bitter taste in my mouth,
seeing you banging on the door screaming ‘goodbye’ everywher.
Fugitive the desire to dance slowly, tell you that I loved you and I love you so much.
Fugitive the words that I never said ...
