I get up early, dying.
Lazily I resurrect, welcome to the world.
I have breakfast among murderous news.

On my way to work, in the Metro¹,
bored I watch the passengers' faces,
companions in routine and yawns.

And in the seat across me,
suddenly a face,
luminous lights the train.

Those gestures bring back memories
of other places, other times,
when I knew better luck.

I can't bring myself to say anything, I'm not sure,
although those eyes, no doubt, are hers,
more nostalgic, perhaps darker.

But I believe it's you and you've barely changed,
as beautiful as before, maybe even more.
You keep looking the saddest girl in town.

How long has it been since the first mistakes,
of the wondering in your look.
The city cried out and cursed our names,
we were young promises owning nothing.

Leaving the echoes of your whispers in the street doors,
searching for any dark corner.
"Hold my hand, I'm afraid of the future",
and after each escape you were there, you were there.

In the empty nights when I come back
alone and badly hurt, I still regret
having casted you out so far away from my body.

And now that I've found you I see it's still burning
the flame you lighted. It's never, never too late
to be born again, to love you.

I must tell you something before you get off
from this dirty train and leave me dead,
look into your eyes, and perhaps remind you,
that we were eternal before we gave up.

Determined I get up and come to you,
and something in my chest tightens, breaks.
"How are you? It's been so long, do you remember me?"
And a shy smile replies:

"I'm sorry, but i think you're mistaken sir".
"I'm sorry, miss, you remind me so much
of a woman I met a few years ago".

Older and wearier I return to my seat,
bored I watch the passengers' faces,
companions in routine and yawns.