The last of them

And the last I see of them are stars on the morning sky and a couple of lights dancing, fading away. My home welcomes me with open arms that I would never un-see.

A soft murmur of music while I hear the last of their voices, their laughs. The tense atmosphere between my friends it’s an implicit farewell that none of us is going to dare to speak.

Escrito el 9/12/15