“How can I now discern you,
At which horizon will you descry,
I hear your voice in the gale,
I close my eyes and stroke you,

As you procure beneath my dermis,
Now a part of my heart now my umbra,
I await you perpetually this I say,
As you have drifted so far away,

I travailed thee nothing more to expound,      
I do not know how to love without you,
All of these nights without you,
All of my fantasies besiege you,

If I see and I touch your face,
I will easily fall into your embrace,
I don't know how to ardor if not to you,
In end I must learn to live without you,
I must cultivate my alluvion melancholy”
    By Andrew Guzaldo 08/12/2018 ©