Even nowadays,
fast as a Cadillac with no breaks, every day has
a minute in which I close my eyes and enjoy missing
you.
Even nowadays, that I'm happy in other ways, every
day has an instant in which I'd bet my springtimes
to have in front of me.
Even nowadays, when I'm laughing with friends, every
day has that time in which breathing is an ungreatful
duty to myself.
Even nowadays, as trivial as a custom party, every
day has those hours at dawn in which I'd yell how
much I need you.
Even nowadays, while I
learn to live and not wait for you,
every night I relapse,
and while I want to forget you, I don't forget I
can't forget you.
And the pain would go much more away if you weren't
within my soul, if you wouldn't look so much like
the ghost that inhabits the mirrors.
