Give me a second

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Give me a second
I still can't get used to your absence,
I still have my hands outstretched waiting for you
for you to arrive
like the butterflies arrive
and kiss me on the forehead.

Give me a second
my eyes are still lost and I can't find them.
Loneliness is a stain on my wings
that grows like flowers
and the emptiness in me
only begs for alms.

Give me a second because after you I'm a broken chair
piled up in a corner of the house,
that the days are only Sundays multiplied by defeats
and life is a dagger with a sharp point.

Give me a second
that my life is in disarray
since you left
and there is no calm sea
no windows, no doors
no warm water or shelter.

Give me a second
Don't leave for good
let me conjugate the days
with the word death.
Let me get used
not to write you, not to touch you
not to see you.
Give me a second that lasts an eternity
and then, if you want,
go away.