She spoke from the illness…
or so they think…
but I found she more beautiful than ever…

We traveled together ten years ago,
in two minutes,
and she filled my poor heart,
frozen and hirsute…

Today, I went back to talk with her,
and she guided my steps,
as the best resolute…

I die a little…every second that I do not hear her…
every minute that she does not kiss me…
every strident awakening…
every recidivist abyss…

But I will always keep in mind,
when I do not understand,
when my soul distemps…:
same belly…
but different mettle…