.

it was anything but the night
always the night
when the caught and ghosts
comes.


Sounds that becomes to dialogues
broken softness pictures
ending in the back
which inevitably turns away.


Flowers time
turns off in May
when everything is erasing
between wind and dust.


What was red now is turning blue
desolated streets
and your absence is only
the past that doesn´t return


Dawn discover me again
looking for me where nobody is
and consolate myself and stupidity
talking to a mirror


.