A poem in my mother tongue, Portuguese, about the word "saudade" (longing). In Portuguese we tell someone we miss them by saying what directly translates to "I have longing", like something you have. That's what this poem is about. Here is a translation:

I say Portuguese
is a lying language.
Distorts, cheats
and even makes fun.

I say "I have longing".
That can't be right.
How can I have something
when you're not by my side?


It sounds a lot better in Portuguese, I promise