Eleanor,
don’t wait for me,
I’ll be in the village by the evening
again.
Eleanor,
you know the roads
are not the same if I don’t have you
and your broken clock
telling the hours wrong
in the copilot sit.
Eleanor,
talking to strangers
in retro cafes
and living like the eighties
doesn’t know themselves,
drinking cherry soda
and looking to that chipped red
nail polish
holding cigarettes
like memories in a rainy day.
Eleanor,
writing in a pale blue typer,
looking for redemption
in poetry lines
like cocaine for angels;
let Aphrodite write
the anger of a misspelled love
in your miscarried eyes
that change with the weather
of your mind.
Eleanor,
may the ants play
with your curly black hair someday,
soon or later,
as long as your round glasses
don’t burn their thrones.
Eleanor,
the sapphire of an unpleasant
sapphic love,
don’t wait for me
because I’ll be back
soon.
Wow, it’s fantastic!
Now I want to know more about Eleanor 
Eleonor resulta, en tus versos, tan misteriosa como sugerente. Gracias por compartirlos!
Hahahaha thanks! 
Gracias a ti por leer!
I have to meet Eleanor now 
I loved it! Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for reading!
I want to ask a silly question. Is Eleanor inspired at all by Lennon’s Eleanor Rigby? Or is this way off since she’s in the 80s and maybe shes just your Eleanor. This is what happens when my coffee kicks in 
I’m sorry to disappoint you but i wrote this poem with a list of words that i thought they were “poetic” or suitable for a poem. Then she turned into a person, into my Eleanor, as you said. This is the list:
Curly black hair
A broken clock
Chipped red nail polish
Round glasses
A pale blue typer
Cherry soda
But thanks for thinking that and for asking!
Not disappointed at all. There is nothing better than to plan to be in one place, only to find yourself in another. Cheers to your Eleanor!
It’s really interesting to discover the story behind the creation of a poem, thanks @cfoliveri @losmundosdero !