Once upon a time, a long while ago,
I left my palm open,
just for a little while.
You slid your glance
onto the love line,
you unshackled drops of passions
gathering them in a torrent of pleasure.
You would beautifully tell
that you had drowned in me then.
I would save you by covering your lips
with crisscrossed gasps,
I closed my fist.
Too late.
You remained there, stealing
my life line, too.
We met
in the palm’s labyrinth,
at a crossroad,
where life and love
grabbed us by our hands.
Today we look into each other’s eyes,
we ask ourselves
what the weather seems like.
Only the thoughts,
like a reflex beyond time,
keep romping.
Wandering,
they search for the trace of love
among the too many lines.
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