Of the petrified woman
You're looking for the man that holds the keys to love for years.
Till now your crust is firmly closed; not even the sun can get through.
Waves keep on passing by; you stay there for ages.
You find a cavity on the rock, a shelter to sustain you
so that you stop breaking on it, so that you stop bleeding.
That is alright this way! At least the pain is over.
Or maybe you delude yourself and think it's getting better...
And, where does the key holder stand? There, in the shade of olives.
And you? You keep on finding it awkward how the road has missed you
just before reaching the resource, only few steps away.
Meanwhile, you found a lantern and shed light on every acre and stone
and then the sun came, sat on them, to expell the winter.
Washed by voices and tunes, your place became a nightsky
and now your road is bringing forth the key holder you expected.