📚DAY 344📖
You will die of not seeing me.
You will die in my eyes when
I close my eyes tired of rereading my verses,
in search of other different verses,
equally different,
still yours, so yours, so deeply yours
I love them
before writing them,
before even thinking that it was possible for me
write them down.
I will die of not seeing you. Stabbed
by a perfect void, the most
significant void, represented
in the great anthology of voids.
We will both die of distance
and loneliness, blind one
from the other. Accustomed
in the dark light of this
idea.
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