Travel

My life has always stopped,
has always traveled,
the sail swells
lashed by passion,
picturing
worlds hidden in words,
resisting
for reasons of reason
that have always persisted
and that have always drowned
in the immense sea of ​​my closed eyes,
in which horizons unfold
caressed by your enchanted night.
My life stops
it never stops
if he still imagines and builds
floating architectures lit with stars
so a moon is not enough,
if you still imagine
a thousand flights with you.

April, 2017