I heard myself whispering
upon some grizzly night,
in which I caught such a fright,
I found the bridge to my heart shattering:
Once so have I
shared my disgust towards my doom,
never letting such bloom
in hopes of consuming the “I”.
The “I” who had vanished.
Vanished from my soul,
Conceiving in thou a whole,
For from the bridge to heart you had been banished.
But such sorrow could never be.
And you, in puddles of your own despair
Asked me has if I had ever had care:
“How may you, my love, leave me be?”
And you, poor thing, have forsaken me.
How may I be, when you run from me?
Marta Sanches (11K)