smoke from my mouth, another night alerta
another sleepless night
your street in Acassuso still lives in my chest
those jacaranda bones stripped bare, no rest
the country club lights bleed through the pine
somebody else's party, somebody's wine
I used to know which gate code let me in
now I'm outside every wall I've ever been
the train still runs at six, the platform's cold
Mitre line carrying stories getting old
the Mitre commuter rail line
same bench in San Isidro where we sat
cathedral in the fog — you can't go back
I order submarino sipping slow alone
the bar on Libertador feels less like home
the delta water's dark and don't reflect stars
Tigre taught me rivers carry mud and scars
humo en Mayo, corazón partido
replaying your face like a film I can't quit
the piano falls soft like the first winter rain
zona norte taught me how to live with pain
your sweater still folded on the edge of the bed
haven't moved it — some quiet war in my head
between erasing and holding what remains
grief is just love with nowhere left to drain
found an old photo tucked behind the mirror
Campana in summer, you laughing, and it's clearer
than anything I got in the present tense
memory's sharper when it don't make no fucking sense
the asado smoke from the neighbor's yard
smells like every sunday that we let our guard
down — wine on the deck, the eucalyptus cold
zona norte suburbs got their own kind of old
not cobblestones — it's driveways and white gates
loneliness dressed up in manicured estates
step out to the garden, let the frost take me
step out to the garden
exhale everything you were — the smoke remake me
maybe you were always just the winter —
something beautiful that enters and splinters
the smoke disappears but the cold stays on
the Pana keeps running long after you're gone
