It was written that your eyes would not see my eyes ...
that my soul would not be your mate, your shoulder that would not rest my tired, and your house does not have doors for me ...
It was written that your kisses will not kiss me with tenderness, that your heart could not be my shelter, that your image would always be this mythical legend, and your presence, just utopia ...
It was written that would never be my dreams come true ...
that your memory would be kept as a rare jewel ...
that my footsteps would rush to you and that your reject, as bodies that repel ...
It was written in short, that despite everything I dreamed and loved and felt our way for you to follow parallel lines ever ...
are close or distant, a short excerpt or long walk, they will never meet in space