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you.

I looked with surprise
and you laughed while
rush to remove the seats, all that
when we saw the bus
was ideal for us because
had 28 seats, not 50.
twenty-eight: you and me.

We brought three bags in each hand
with imagination and what is not
with the ephemeral and the perennial,
loaded bags as
adults are not, such as grandparents
we want to be, as
fools who do not reject any;
all cast aside between our feet and our tiredness
happy.

But only you and I slept.
You, that with all the naturalness of the world,
with all the naturalness of your madness,
intended to bring you a soda at that hour, and
not rest until the day
bars that sell tea, and has
shakes at every corner.
You slept when I wanted to read.
Until I realized that traveling with you.

travel with you while you slept in my arms
is numb.
and traveled as far
that cooled me legs that were moving
less head,
and I pulled the scarf, and I
me up the neck, because outside the fog
threatened to eat
to anyone who crossed off guard.

Same she
brings memories of the place they've never seen
led me to wake me in my lonely
and you in your deep sleep, the two united
not to lose his arms
in our journey of silence where they spoke
words and those
and said they wanted
and to be told that merged into a single
quiet: that I look at you and your thinking. Travel

you.
journey with you.
After traveling and before moving on. Travel
you in your quiet,
in which you want, where I brought in my bag,
without knowing that he had done.

After you travel behind me,
me that let me run like sometimes
by green hills while
chase me while I travel and shot me in the grass
and I roll silently laughing
without anyone knowing
as my father laughed when I threw
guardaabajo the Parque Los Reyes.