When you arrived with your lit torch, you lit the lights of my interior; you walked barefoot through the paths of my soul; you opened my windows, but yesterday you left leaving the lights of my interior lit. The cold air enters through my windows and my soul walk alone and barefoot on those roads. You left the lights of my interior lit. I can not turn them off, the darkness would come back without your memory. My soul would again walk in the darkness touching the walls. You went as someone who will return ,leaving in my the lights on.
Josep Juarez
