Noches largas

The cigarette burned my fingers,
the useless plea cracked in my voice,
and in that corner of dead dreams
your memory and I were alone.
Pain of nights that became long,
the rigour of fury that denied forgiveness.
Then the fever of rushing without pause,
the bitter cup that served your goodbye.

Long nights...
taming this nostalgia
that harasses me and denies me
the hope of forgetting...
Heavy cross...
of this long wait and they go
with memories and ghosts
that name you as they pass by...
And this sorrow,
and this eagerness that claims you,
nor your name that on my lips
is consolation and rigor.
Long nights...
tossed in the squall
of pain and abandonment
that your forgetfulness unleashed.