Hasta perder la cuenta

I lost sight of her at the beginning of summer
she took her handbag and left no clue behind.
I stayed staring at the ceiling with the procession inside
and a whirlwind in the mathematical center of my chest.

Time slips away drop by drop down my forehead
I'm suddenly alone and this loneliness is bad
on the couch talking to the plants
I have a lump in my throat
I know she won't come back

I dream of an autumn of kisses and roses
with the silhouettes of bare branches
with blondes brunettes and redheads
I dream of a love that shakes me

If July is rocky August is a desert
many nights I wake up soaked and trembling
let a storm fall to erase all her traces
a hundred thousand lightning strikes until I lose count.