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.