December
I think we’re in August, although I’d like to be in December. The curtain goes up, that strategic resource of using the imagination, and nostalgia shows up. So I tell myself that December is making its appearance. We are in the Glorias Patrias Square and his black hair moves between my fingers as if it were a fine stream of water, caressing my hands. I wonder if it isn't December the best time of my life, while behind one of the square’s trees appears the menace of a hidden goblin.
I don’t know if it’s that goblin the one who reminds me what a fool I am. Maybe the best of being such a fool is to remember and go into that universe of feelings that only time is able to flavor.
It’s time to lower the curtain.
I’m again in what they call "earthly world". That’s when I realize that I’m standing up shaking in the Glorias Patrias Square, and once again, fool at last, I understand that I still haven’t made it out of that place.
And that it can always be December in August.
Beautiful!