The loss Caricia
runs through my fingers caress without cause, I will
of fingers ... In the wind, in passing, the caress
wandering without destination or purpose,
lost the touch who will pick it up?
I could love tonight with infinite pity, I love the first
who happened to arrive.
No one comes. The flowery paths are alone.
The lost touch, shoot ... roll ...
eyes If you kiss tonight, traveler, shakes the branches
if a sweet sigh
if you pressed a small hand fingers
who takes you and leaves you, and you will achieve.
If you do not see that hand, or kissing that mouth, if air
who weaves the illusion of kissing,
oh traveler, you have eyes like the sky, the wind
cast, do you recognize?
poetry Alfonsina Storni
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