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I'd like to love you less, to be more sane,
than to love you as much as I love you,
I no longer know whether what I long for or what I infer,
is to love you as I would like or as I lose.
I seem to wander in an uncertain sea,
between conscience and crude reality,
in a desire so deep and inscrutable,
that reason finds it difficult to glimpse.
Ephemeral becomes like the wind, smoke,
this deep feeling that binds me.
Interweaving longings and memories
of fleeting moments that kill me.
Episodes and fragments parade by
of this love that bewitches me without respite.