For a girl

I like a girl.

I like a girl who melts like dark chocolate.

The skin of my journey will cling to her sweet smell.

I like that she has a name born in the morning.

As the wind chimes polish the dew.

surprise calls out to her, in a rainy alley

a voice like a sleepwalker.

I like the way the moss passes over her body.

that caress, sleeping with the coldness of old times.

That bitterness, like an apple, makes the melody of green turn red; and

That makes me, a stubborn stone, carve the flowing water.

I like the girl part of a girl.

Her chrysalis, her sleep and her silk

-should be winter hidden in a baroque castle.

Let her grow into a slave girl, with the freedom of brewing in the cellar.

I love the fresh blowing memories of her dense gloom.

Her curriculum vitae should be a snow of the south of the river that

Surrounded by a perpetually rusting youth.

One by one, she fills her withered loneliness.