Because of the way you were dying down, I waited that very soon you wouldn’t be able to arise a cloud of tenderness anymore; I already waited that you wouldn’t plant with your kisses my garden of fantasies, but are we really prepared for the dreary and frightful death even though we can hear its steps? I think no one is never ready for that.

I remember, I remember as you died. You died as daisies die, you died as lilacs die, you died as lilies do; you died with a sharpened sadness and the irony of a smile trapped in your expiring; you sadly wilted as usually roses do; slowly, you were going away, and I couldn’t help it; I couldn’t help that slowly you went away from my hands, and that you faded away from my life like a sigh, but life’s like that, like that is death.

After your death, I haven’t gone by your house where loneliness is to stroll, the same loneliness that strolls around me. Yes, now that you are not, silence and loneliness are everywhere, everything is muteness. Are mute the walls, are mute the hours, there are mute roses, mute, mutter than never; there’s an empty, and an eternal absence that gossips with the distance that there’s between us, and which cruelly makes fun of me.

I just don’t get accustomed to your farewell, in meanwhile I miss you, I laugh because already I lack tears, sometimes I think of you because more I can’t do for you, and it’s so much what I talk to your absence, the only thing you left me. Sometimes I want to call you, I just want to hug you, or kiss you, just because I forget that are not but a pile of memories and sadness that comes to kiss me every night, and wake me up with a mood for crying; I forget that you’re not but absence that demolish my days.

There’s still a lot more to tell you, but I only wanted to talk to you a little about my feelings since you said to us good bye. I think reality is taking its place again; everyday, I get accustomed to the idea that life’s like that, that first were you, that tomorrow, or today, will be another, maybe I, maybe no one knows who.

Every second I feel older, every second I feel you closer, and the truth, I’m not afraid, no one should be afraid about what is unavoidable. I am following you through the time, through the space; the grave is open, I feel cold, I am cold, my eyelids close, some deepness, some everlasting dream is getting closer; I see you, some darkness, I feel you, Luisa, I’m with you.