…rewind time and memory,

 I don't always feel like rewinding time and memory

though there is so much of both between us. Sometimes it's enough

 release a sigh into the air to bring the memories to the point

next to the pile of things, valued by both, rightly so.

Like the dried flowers that are still in the books of Sabines,

or next to my bed your drawing, on the nightstand, the old jewelry box

and inside the earrings with those pearls white, a little irregular

because they have… the imprint of your kisses mixed with mine.

Since you left, very often the flowers and the verses

accompany me, the petals, be fresh or withered, have

a peculiar scent. I rarely accept love

half words, I told you once, with me everything…or nothing.

Who I am?https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andrea_Salda%C3%B1a