always knew to expect the last song of the summer,
those in which
am walking with
cardigan by time and the sea was fading
their fervor in the calm blue of September.
Light and dark roasted
every corner of the eye,
and year after year, face to face, hands intertwined
to fall and music
lost in the emptiness of the apartments, on the terraces wept
by the absence
and wound temporary happiness.
will return, say,
without hours on the edge of the bed ,
but the swallows are others, like
August in your face, you bring your kisses
and escape with your kisses
forever, or waves
broken my fingers
on your chest unknown and familiar, known and forgotten
forever.
lose the innocence age
retrieved,
the skin smooth and quiet
west wind.
is the last song,
the last ride,
the last touch of summer.
always knew to expect.
learn.
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