If you were not here, then you wrote poetry for you

Then the voice from the dill is your
page, so I am with you
Remember that
those paths that
you loved very much,
still today I pass
through the same way that I hear the same voices on the paths
you talk to me.
If you were not here,
then you wrote poetry for you,
often used
to throw paper pages in the air.
Now you will say, why?
Was I crazy?
But I used to find
your own fragrance on those pages
if it is called madness, yes yes I was mad.