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My hands, full of endless absences,
Live longing for the caress of your skin.
They yearn to one day travel the routes of your body,
They fervently wish to have you again.
I'm consumed by the cold as the lonely night falls,
Living surrounded by infinite solitudes.
Without you, the immensities of this cruel ocean
Are mistreating my soul, burning my skin.
These infinite longings to contemplate you again
They cause storms that tear my being apart.
My boat, old and tired, lost its course in its old age,
Looking out to the horizon with the illusion of seeing you again.
But you are elusive, or you hide, I don't know,
My hands full of absences palpitate for your being.
And on nights of full moon, they dream of touching your skin,
Longing to quench this thirst that consumes me.
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