The tides

From the moment you opened your arms,
I have been given ten years of life.

Your eyes, like two green lakes,
Where light boats drift like sheep,
Mine are oil lamps,
A lonely beach and the quiet of those who live there.

Ten years ago, among the cars, I found my steps.

I control them, I run beside them to catch the moment,
I touch its start and go back to the attic
where you told your name
that quiet morning, Diana Marttell, you whispered
cutting through the sound of the air.

Diana, secret and hunter,
Action moves you more than a name,
giving my body a place to rest.

The wind of the light boats on the green lakes,
For ten years I waited
under the watchful eyes of the mountain rocks.

Yol, Ariel Cumbá, low tide on the shore.

There are no boats, only lost moments.

An old plaza and its beauty held in your arms.

I, chasing life inside you like an impatient animal.

She, fixing my eyes to the rocks.