Longing

When you no longer hear my voice,

and all my lies and truths,

the fictions of a mad mind and withered souls, will you remember?

When my hands are no longer there to pass through your hair,

touch your face,

taste your lips, and the salty flavor of longing,

the gaze of sorrow and love pouring into your smile,

the depths of the soul,

eyes that cut through the night with their brilliance,

will you miss me?

When there's no one to make you laugh and bring tears to your eyes,

no one who, unintentionally in their madness,

causes you pain,

while destroying themselves,

when there's no one waiting with their entire soul for your poems,

to absorb them, revive them,

and write long, heartfelt messages about them, about you,

will you yearn for me?

When time and oblivion cover me,

my deeds and all I never accomplished,

happiness,

and the pain I never wished to inflict upon you,

yet did, at fault in longing and suffering,

in waiting and seeking you,

with a soul's scream that cannot be without you,

because my heart and soul reside in you,

and there are no reasons,

no explanations why,

will you remember that despite all my sins and falls,

all your tears and pains because of me,

I loved you with every fiber of my being,

will you understand that without you, there is no me,

will you?

People are unlucky,

and I've been unlucky,

in arguments,

in mistakes,

in our wars, with or without cause,

and yes, I've fallen,

and I've risen because I love you,

I love you with blood,

until my last breath,

as only I can love you.

In the transient, I see myself,

just a moment,

but with you,

I am something else,

something eternal,

lasting,

something that the soul never vanishes,

always remains inscribed in the touch and verse of truth...

It's love,

and even when you push me away,

and when you want to leave,

and never hear me again,

and when my yearning and craving for you smell bitter and tiresome,

I wonder if there's only one culprit,

or if dancing always requires two,

and in love, there is no culprit...

Yes, when the darkness of longing and solitude covers me,

in the long days and nights of waiting to see you,

and to breathe you in,

to have you briefly in the embrace of evening,

night, and morning when I return to waiting,

thunder and lightning,

eruptions and storms that then carry us away,

to separate us and then reunite us,

I wonder if,

when it all comes to an end, will you miss me?

In a sigh while you stroll through the evening and night with light steps,

and with your dance,

you give light to the darkness,

will I be a moment within you,

at least the tiniest spark,

but one that never extinguishes,

one that cannot be hidden by darkness,

I wonder,

will I be?

Igor Tintor

Longing

Longing

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Longing

Longing

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