Pensandote

The night flies looking for you,
the rain plays on my window,
hours sleep in my coffee,
only silence accompanies me.

I turn my face and look closely,
I discover a jester in the mirror,
he grimaces, I can understand,
he tries to tell me what I feel.

No explanation is needed,
I know stories that don't end well,
protagonists of indecision,
and now it's me,
and now it's me,
and now it's me,
thinking of you.

I leave my book, turn off the light,
I tuck the moon in the curtain,
I close my eyes and you appear,
only the pillow caresses me.