latitudes -
psychophonies of your lover in a sullen
early morning -
insomnia in frozen memory
litanies of existence -
Boiling hearts between isolated minds.

There are so many things that I can feel
but only one that I want without you,
There’s only one grudge addict around here
because we could be two …

This is how bitterness is, you know?
a pinch of sugar
in a cup of tachycardia,
it’s a ray of sunshine
in full snow,
are the pieces that do not fall
of my wounded susceptibilities,
it’s you telling me “bye”
when confirming my arrival.

And I who never thought
in solving crosswords -
life is the mess you leave
of future riddles
and of past causes.

But the tropelia remains
of your sensations;
an even more orange autumn
and the sawdust of souls,
your empress smile
and a whirlwind of strange nights
any other dimension of an instant,
and the brush of our conjugated glances
on a shared bed
Like a maze
where our bodies melted
They never die, nor do they remain
As an entity
painfully happy.

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