Memory on the Façades

Memory stretches a staircase of wind,
climbing upon façades that whisper.
Stone and lime breathe to the pace of memories,
and names from yesterday come alive, trembling.
It transforms the walls into a secret language,
cracks become signs, leaks of light.
Every balcony is a suspended comma,
every window a word that observes.
The language grows between lampposts and dusk,
an alphabet that the wind preserves.
Who reads moves the lips of the quarter,
and the city answers, in silence, with memory.