A Balcony with a Hint of Absence

As if an eye reached me with nostalgia
As if a hand tore my transparent intimacy
As if winds
Grew around my waist
And threw me whining

Here I am a plant
Quarrelling with the architecture of the wind
Here I am a shell
Writing the meaning of silence
Laughing in its secrecy
At the stupidity of words
Here I am
A cloud
Forlorn
Folding itself
On a bed of solitude
And disappearing
In the mirrors of nothingness

I fancy
Slitting my shadow
And quenching my thirst through my slits

I fancy
 Following the sea
And imitating it

I fancy going
Far, far away
Drawing a heaven
That can bear forgetfulness
A balcony
That can bear absence
Words
That can bear
Being erased

I fancy leaning my head
On a pillow of dew
And letting Truth flow