What if I told you that I miss you?
That I miss you like a car...

In a narrow corridor,
a hand with short nails...

Bright, bright, stars,
that visit the sky with lights...

Sometimes love,
I feel your shouts like hammers knocking down...

I was born in a land where Spanish was the ground...
And I, just like a tree who was moved to another...

You that flutters in observance
From up, an olive tree...

Should I compose a sonnet just for you?
You are a judge who's tired of reading them...

May be, I am this book on my lap?
The one I usually close to nap...

Oh fluffy, whitey pillow!
when night do comes...

In dreams, I wandered lost
Like dogs without a home...

Hey friend, don't let this love of yours
be some kind of rope...

It's true so many flowers bloom with water,
but you do not - you bloom with love, my love...