Su Poesía Y La Tristeza Mía

Her poetry and my sadness

My lips are numb and they throb
At the heavy thoughts of her that weigh on my heart
And my eyes focus on the words that she's carved
Onto paper forums
In her heart
In her frown
I pray not in her flesh.

And I feel her in the bloody hum of my vocal chords and it's resignation through the rest of my body
And I taste her in the salt of my tears
And the chills and the shakes, that make my body quake
And tremble,
Are at the result of her

Yet she knows nothing
And she brings me comfort
And cognitive stress;
But that is my own fault

It melts at her smile
Or in her message
Or in her grasp on me

But mine will always be tighter
"Oh."

I am not warm.
My flesh is ice,
But I pray that my thoughts
Are the Rays that will melt the frigidity of her isolation.

My heart is warm.
And it could be for her as well.
It's kinetic energy heats my stomach
And I am displaced under the light density of her coolness

Maybe if science has it right, my heat will distribute

To her,
To me.
Maybe we will be
A cohesive
Degree

Celsius or Fahrenheit?
We speak in one
But we live in another

We breathe fire
In one way
Or another

So, what is the difference?

I exhale appreciation and she breathes it con mucho gusto

She blurs las barreras de lenguage

¿Lingua Franca o amor?

Es universal, pero quiero comprender cuando me convirtió a español

My tongue,
Y la lengua de ella

¿Podemos ser uno?

No se