On a winter afternoon, when I besieged you in my soul,

love emerged drawing your kisses on my lips;

in my breasts the man next to my bedside

and behind the dream a wave of your memories

 

Your voice was the silence and sap running through my body...

and from the dream to my memory only unconsciousness passes through my eyes

and my ​​torment is the sea of your hands,

the insolence which I sip while I sleep

 

It is then when I understand that your soul is my life

although, as in other days, full of melancholy

 

I can tell you a thousand things...

I consciously tell you, consciously write you these lines,

knowing that I am a body gone astray in your shadow, however,

in my imagination I wander through the map of your body

in search your breath,

the fragrance of your kisses

 

I feel your ethereal and torturous image inflaming my gut,

helplessly realizing that it’s your shadow that caresses me;

it descends with cruel silence, it dwells in me,

I seek to cuddle to its side and it denies me life;

even in these somber hours I cling to your image,

since my heart only knows how to love you  

 

And I pour onto these pages any reason that vanquishes my weariness

so as to forget your memories that, as a chastisement, are bonded to my skin

 

 

©Noris Roberts