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I went to walk to this orchard where you sowed shoots of human beings,
I came to remind you in the middle of this rain,
you were asking me before you died.
I walked alone between the silence of the undergrowth and the solitude of the dry land,
I saw curtains of dust dancing between the roots of Guayacan.
I went to look for your name where there are faded and opaque things to see the winds of your memories cease.
I walked into the past trying to recognize who we were when we were alive.
I do not know if we were shadows in ancient times or pebbles of a dawn flooded in the amber of days.
I went to find you when you were not to feel a little alive,
And bloom again in another life
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Forgetting
RandomHow to forget someone who has gone , how to forget someone you can not forget , for love or hate, pleasure or disappointment . The art of forgetting gives you the keys to overcoming the sleep of reason , that dream we often produces monsters...
