I've forgotten

To Big Ben

Sometimes the fall is lost in the past,
can not remember which is death
between dilapidated streets chanting sounds
in scented moisture and forgotten by London.

Who are this day, minute by second?

Live fatwas for recalling joys,
makeup of absence that taste old,
and breaking down the whining Thames illusion,
where deer parade fog among the people.

What was my astonishment fineness restless,
if ran scenarios from counted history
between paths that keep secrets
and walls that whisper mysteries.

For today, I just want this feeling passed,
but time has muted,
nothing seems real, and music...
is punished in the corner of this photograph.

Clavel Rojo

Alejandra P. Rodríguez Espinosa. Todos los derechos reservados