With Neruda, I fell in love with you.
It was so beautiful, I felt I had to close my eyes wide shut,
just to remember this was not a dream.
Then Hemingway came along, by then I was feeling a little lost in your eyes. Some days were good, some days were bad. Yet, I still held on.
But when I suddenly found myself with Bukowski on my nightstand.
Well, I knew then, baby, we were ******. He brought me back to reality, and I understood at that moment, that we were finally done.
*Sandoval
Now I don't read any of them, they remind me too much of you..
To Drew.