Twilight Love. | A Poetry

I have seen from my window
the party of the west in the distant hills.

Sometimes, like a coin
a piece of sun was lit in my hands.

I remembered you with the tight soul
of that sadness that you know me.

So, where were you?
Among what people?
Saying what words?
Why will all love come to me suddenly
when I feel sad, and I feel you far away?

Fell the book that is always taken in the twilight,
and as a wounded dog rolled my cloak at my feet.

Always, you always get away in the evenings
where the twilight is erasing statues.