You know how is this:
if I look
the crystal moon, the red branch
of the slow autumn in my window,
if I touch
next to the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the wood,
everything brings me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
they were small boats that sail
to the islands of yours that await me.

However,
if little by little you stop loving me
I will stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
that I will have forgotten you.

If you consider long and crazy
the wind of flags
what goes through my life
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart in which I have roots,
think
that on that day,
at that time
I will raise my arms
and my roots will come out
to look for another land.