If even between us, a distance of one breath, take my breath
to become one, if my death stops, take my breath,
O you are also my dear roof, O you are also my cry, crying was also the distance of
our last cry, the end of the game of love, the end of this was your
guess, in the oven of every breath, not sadness, but not less,
your fresh night, the shrapnel full of arrows of love, the stone of the trench, which is not
well, yesterday and still, a design of me on the cross, on your
clothes.The time of the nakedness of love, with the same humble design, burn your body in the fire,
your eyelids are in the distance, hands, papers, and sonnets, it was me and it was love,
getting rid of the cocoon of sleep, O key to the lock of poetry, it was a poetic dream,
if even between us, the distance of one breath, take my breath
to become one, if my death is enough, take my breath
from the bottom of the well of silence, to the loudness of the voice, you were our friend dear all
the way, you were the most loving with me, you were the same voice dear guess
. Turning away, leaving me out of our way, believing in helplessness,
the day of self-denial, the day of your birth, the death of this optimism,
say the absence of the hand, the absence of whatever the soul, there is no distance between us
, your last occultation, the migration of the birds of the voice, the end of this belief
