AT DAWN

She breathes in the shadows
Gray days
Weekdays loses a life
Second.
He lives and dreams to meet her
On the street completely deserted.
He had almost forgotten her scent and the color of the eyes,
And still in the palms of the hair
He was, and was not in her life somewhere
In the middle of the holidays, weekends and weekdays.
She often says it when sleeping
And in that darkness breathing dreams
At dawn, they have hundreds of nights
Warm up those ways.