Pasandote

The night flies by searching for you,
the rain plays on my window,
the hours sleep in my coffee,
only silence keeps me company.

I turn my face and look closely,
I see a clown in the mirror,
it makes a face, I can understand,
it 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 put down my book, turn off the light,
I tuck the moon behind the curtain,
I close my eyes and you appear,
only the pillow caresses me.