The contour of the beloved’s face
in the fluidity of your thoughts:
that longed-for face of your fleeting youth,
in the constancy of your memory:
Orgulous countenance in the
impossibility of proximity!
His labiovelar echoes, fevered
with mute sonic-shivers,
chromatic with imagination,
sombre with departure,
lacerated with resignation—
perished in a brutal reality,
which slaughtered the lamb of your heart.
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