You, my very soul, cry rivers, cry me inane monsoons.
Hear me not listening for I have given up.
I have given up on this dream we once were.
My heart hungers for the morphine of your touch.
I am thirsty again for lovers’ quarrels.
Now that you are gone I want you so much.
In my hearts winter melancholy swings to the rhythm of
your dreams waltzing our dark desires through the night.