the black dress

I enjoy spending some time

in second hand boutiques,

where I go between rows

filled with things that once

some strangers owned.

Red and Chinese cups for coffee or tea,

silver candlesticks and

hand made wooden boxes,

in which I wonder what they hid.

Carnaval costumes, odd hats,

gala dresses and rain boots,

vynils of unknown old bands,

pianos, unfunctional guitars, violins…

I pass between and touch

with my short fingers

pieces of some other lived lives.

Headphones flood my ears with

old jazz and old blues

untill I am no longer here…

I could bet this black dress never embraced

a being body.

I could bet these black sequins never shined

in a lover’s wide opened eyes,

and,

since I found it,

I can’t stop thinking of how this black beauty

will shine one night for you.

I bet a champion horses race

that it waited for me,

lost on this cold hanger,

for four decades.

Now is hanged in my own room

for how long is left.