Dias de Sombrilla

I liked her caresses and her hair
and her hours that were mine,
and my lips on her skin.
And the scent of that indiscreet perfume
that she used on her neck
where I searched so much.

I liked her arrival and waited for her
leaning out the window from where I see pass by
the sway of a world so unknown
that I don't know if I found her there,
or maybe in another place.

I liked those afternoons and finding in the parks
the benches that made room for some lovers,
and for others, who like us,
were also going to try.

I liked the light bulbs, the umbrella days,
and holding her hand afterwards,
Oh, and how I liked to look at her and kiss her,
and be able to kiss her again.

I liked the arrival of the rainy hours.
And I liked her hurry and how her feet floated.
And even though some days her impossibilities infected me
I keep her in the photograph that I didn't return.

She now lives where my memories wait
and to another, who is very similar, she sees me with eyes from yesterday
I know she's not the same anymore, but I understand,
that there are some occasions that I would like to go back to.