I want to knock on your door
but I cannot find my hands
I think I forgot them in that dream
where I caressed the nape of your neck
after having hugged your back for hours
or maybe
my hands left with the rain
to touch the faces of those who look face to face
and receive my hands without fear
…but what should I say?
here are my hands
I write your name in this piece of paper that isn’t paper
in this piece of light that gives me the perfect sensation of the void
writing in the sand of this beach invented by my whims
waiting for the wave to come and erase everything at once
but
there is no sea or sky
nor sand nor rain
nor light
only a door,
your closed door
and my hands
that don’t know what to do.
-peace and poetry-
© Adrian
Translation by Nina Serrano.
