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I need silence as much as secrets.
Sometimes, like them, I need light,
while all streets
decide to anchor themselves in pools
and the sky
of the lonely supermarkets
looks too much like your eyes.

But night goes down
to sit in the plazas at night.
They are
the sought-after seats of twilight,
so said someone who tried
to start a conversation with me.

And I spoke of you, I spoke of the weeks,
of the interest the days show in not passing.