A poem from Italo López Vallecillos

Just the air

Maybe you won´t come today.

I always wait for you, dear.

While the hope breaks its crystals.

I already know it. I knew it before.

Nevertheless, I don´t know why I love like

this, impersonal, abstract, snowish,

bellish, honeish or just the silence,

when you do not come, the trees get

undressed, the day comes out with

an excuse and it rains.

The heart is left,

just like the air.

Poem written by Italo López Vallecillos (Salvadorean writter)

Translated by Roberto H.