“Love hurts. It's like giving yourself up to being skinned and knowing that at any moment the other person could leave with your skin.”
Susan Sontag, American essayist and novelist.
Between stunned lights
Wet afternoon, empty sky,
I forget cold;
Lost sheets,
between stunned lights,
for the funeral rain that froze the way
of a face brighter than Sirius.
Much anguish weighs on the sky,
everything looks gray.
Uncertainty sinks its head in the sand.
Some water the world of the same misery
who eats the green fruit
and regurgitates the mature in the middle of hysteria
morning that paints anything rainbow.
There will be no twilight to set us free
of destiny,
from the puddle of dreams,
of the brightness of the starry skies.
There will be no night to catch your breath
exhaled
There will be no moon to return your shadow
full of starry dreams,
nor heaven that treasure the words uttered
by shadows of other times.
By Zeleira Cordero 
24/06/2019
The images are of Pixabay CC0 Creative Commons
Raindrops by Myriams-Fotos