This love...
that quivers on my lips,
longing to have you by my side,
throbbing in perfumed sheets,
drawing a hundred kisses on my pillow

This love...
that you attempt to forget,
that lives a daily torment,
keeps pledging love,
however unnecessary it may seem to you...

This love...
that left its mark on my soul,
and tears that never stop shedding,
is a litany, a plea, a prayer..,
it is passion difficult to forget...

I believed I was the owner of your love,
but it was only an illusion;
who would be more sincere of the two,
you for leaving or
me for loving you?

Please don't say anything about this love,
feign me a moment of passion,
spare this heart from any further suffering,
which is not to blame for this love

©Noris Roberts