AZUL DE TI

To think about you is blue, like wandering
through a golden forest in the middle of the day:

gardens are born from my words
and with my clouds, I walk through your dreams.

Unites us and separates on a soft air,
a distance of darkness;

I raise the arms of my poem,
blue from you, hurt and waiting.

It is like a horizon of violins
or the lukewarm suffering of a jasmine
to think about you, of blue temperament.

The world becomes glassy to me,
and I look at you, between the lamp of chirps,
blue Sunday of my thoughts.