.
How many times, alone, I was whistling myself
walking by a sidewalk?
How many bicycles I have stolen, myself...
walking by
a sidewalk
...but I never had seen a stare like that again
walking by a sidewalk, may be you're 15, maybe 16
open your arms to me, don't ask who
I want to get
into your world
your world of lit fruit, of slight, misunderstood stares
your fears, your palpitations
have slight sensations
your shames and your smells
and anxiety
and to know-not to know the modesty
your world of barely flying doves
with your eyes of amazed love
your tired and clear days
in your world of vivid lights
of fantasies
and promises...
but I never saw a stare like that anymore
walking by a sidewalk
open your arms
don't ask who.
Who.
.
