I was really burning for your caressing hands
until I learned just in my illusion
I was being missed
and
nobody truly existed
behind those hands.
or if the did, they existed like fungus
with no roots
neither in your finger
nor in my bones.
We were living nowhere except,
on the apparent world of skins,
with no transparency of bones.
There was no flesh behind the skin
and no soul behind the masks
and no one
behind the doors of your lips.
