Evening Thoughts
I had to discover that secret fast; it was a dark case, a conspiracy
I’d say, of which everyone avoided talking, even my own father.
After dinner, he’d light a cigarette and remain silent while I dreamed of
a bus on an autumn night, an outing with old friends into our lost
dream or I’d leave the flies on my face because I forgot to tell you
I had been dead for a long time, though I had to keep it secret.
What else is more shameful than friends who desert, or even worse
who insist on daydreaming.
And, I think, perhaps Hell is just a game
You win.
Libros Libertad 