Words

You tried to hurt me with your words…
vain, vague, distant,
exact copies
of a theater without voice.

You didn’t understand that it doesn’t wound anymore…
It is cured and that not even stings…
There is nothing that floats…
this river and its sickle…

Syllables that populate,
those empty sofas…those dark nights…
of sadness and unreasonableness…

No, your weariness
doesn’t cause me pain as before…
it only gives me the chills to know
that you have no heart
anymore…