Honey, the days taste like nostalgia...
Without the essence of your being
Without the sweetness of your soul.
Every night tastes like winter
And the precipitation in my being gets closer
and closer with your memory...

Your words are the anchor in my port
Your warm smile is the breeze guiding my shipwreck
Because in a world of such few magical possibilities I found you, so implacable and radiant.
With the sea witness of my love and now my irremediable pain, for having found heaven and giving it up for you, love.

© Katherine Mariana

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