When the dust of my bones
will settle near the lake
where the unicorns come
to quench their thirst .
When the red of the revolution
will set with the red of the sun
into the empty souls of a million skies .
It will be then that this sadness
will retire to the memories
from whence it took birth .
It’s illusions will all evaporate
and mix with the footprints of time
to lie beside the yellow leaves
that are often trodden upon .
Death will then , be inclined to make
a present of life
by taking away all , which was willing destroyed
in the wake of all , that I was not .
The heart will remember how it used to beat once
though it never did forget , how to skip a beat
in case she suddenly came .
I will smile at all this and still wonder
what if , it was a “yes” .
(Poem and photograph)