The death of waiting

And we are in bed,

and your fingers caress my wounds on the skin,

and you question softly, in the form of a secret.

In fear that I have fallen asleep after I have sighed our truth.

You say it and you hold your breath: How did they happen?

And time goes by, you think you see the sun rise and the stars disappear,

you think you sleep and forget the question like a dream that escaped from you,

You just think that everything was an illusion.

  And when it is that you believe it, since you dream the answer.

  It is that you open your eyes to see you in mine

  And listen to the answer that breaks thousands of souls:

Waiting for you.

T.M.