sexta-feira, dezembro 14

Airport

These nights
and those
pass
They shall pass 'til eternity.

I blink in darkness
the same as being awake,
But not for long.

In these flights
that doesn't seem to ever land;
In these cries
I rub my eyes: there isn't sand.

I quietly wait for the dreams I sort

In these nights,
when I long
for an airport.