A long winter awaits the two of us
within those four walls of a home
that no longer knows us, inside this
life that doesn’t belong to us: I am
here, and you are so far.


A long winter awaits the two of us.
I don’t know if the roads that now
divide us will be full of ice or snow,
if the kilometers between us will
stretch like arms that can’t embrace.


A long winter awaits the two of us.
And I collect the last leaf of autumn
and, just like a letter, I send it to you.