Fields dressed wrought gold,
with the loss of the spring,
and so absent, miserable, painful,
without resting on his burning arms,
I was dying in the memory of a kiss in the corner
his lips.
And clinging to an uncontrolled feeling,
look like bird looking for water to drink
other amores..y was how I found myself lost, empty and broken ...
rebuilding the wounds of a broken heart, but this,
This ever you had forgotten.
and again demolished,
for time lost
and your absence increasingly latent,
I rave slowly,
remodeling those shiny and insolent eyes.
and even when my skin
Bruised by years
take a carmine color,
and my eyes cease to radiate,
is then my last breath of life,
hurriedly when I write this poem,
I know what is love, this is love.
that that does not fade even love the other die.
