He has short, ragged dark hair,
jeans, a long dark coat.
He walks out of — a building, an alley, an archway
in his black boots,
his shaven pale face almost handsome.
He is in love with someone — he is dreaming.
He is young and beautiful
and he speaks to me
and I touch his hands.
He stands in his place, his archway, and I go there.
A dark jacket, jeans, black boots.
The dark hair is greying, the face has lines.
He is strong and his strength is simple. He knows himself.
He has many loves and many griefs, and so many dreams,
and he speaks to me.
I listen
and rejoice.
(First published in Fieralingue)