i cannot deny this,
i miss you.
i open a book and
see your picture there
inserted in one of
those pages,
sometimes, this fool,
thinks that you miss
me too,
just a happy imagination,
or clearly another matter
of an illusion.
love survives, virtually,
life goes on and on,
love dies, and then lives
again,
life moves, love struggles,
love saves, too it kills.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem