your absence has left me wounded,
split into two halves, breathless, voiceless
in my throat and with no accent,
your absence has left me shaken. Disclaimer
against air rage, rage
hour and a lament, and blasphemous
insistent wind's fury
feel that you're gone. Back
If the head is a vacuum that has left
your picture in my days:
not feel anything ... just cold.
Only this huge cold
causing winter joys
exiled so far from the abyss of your mouth.
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