yesterday, i was on the verge of letting you go. i left the thought of you in my last 84 years, and before that too. today, i'm 34 and maybe will last for the next decades or so. i'm not sure if i'll leave this lifetime again-- with the trails of your kisses dangling on my shoulder, its tips gently swaying across my bare back. ill ask myself again tomorrow the dreaded question of my past lifetimes, "why will i leave you again?".

i developed this habitual longing for thoughts of you inside my head. how i couldn't quite reach the satisfaction of imagining--i need your soul in physical form. i need you with me; right here, right now.

you can clearly see the fault here, and i'm sorry for that. i need to love you, not need nor want you. it's not some complicated **** as the reason of my soon-to-be absence for the rest of your life, it's the crushing thought of being not worthy to be yours. you're too precious, too much of a sweet liability for my bitter tongue could willingly handle.

alas, this lifetime would probably be wasted again on depressing decisions that will be the end of me. but one thing is for sure, inside the deep oblivion of my mind, i will always love you. and i'm wishing for more lifetimes to come for me to get that out of my nothingness.

Lying together in
the calm of night
eyes losing focus,
drifting towards
sleep, there was
always one more
thought to speak,
one more kiss to
give. Black hair
shone like ravens'
wings on silken
pillows. At dawn,
I would lead my
army into battle,
never to return.

Now, you turn
your face to smile
at a new love,
holding a black
umbrella over her
pretty blond head.

When we met,
our souls saw
who we were  
to one another.

But that was then,
my love.

The sands sleep beneath the mists
As the breath of time sets in
And the memory of you
Settles soft upon my skin
I feel your hand of time entwined in mine
As you call me your El Cid
I return the devotion , calling you Jimena , my devine
And across the morning mist
We will once again walk hand in hand

In a latter day I found a wonder
But no where near the age
I am sadden by the book
With the many missing page

If you are my Jabal Tariq
Then I will be your rock El Cid

But far across there is such distance
That no man can rid
Perhaps in another life
Closer we will be . . . .
And I will return as your El Cid
As you my Jemena , come back to me