LOVE

Because of you, in
gardens of blossoming
flowers
I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your
face,
I no longer remember
your hands;
how did your lips feel on
mine?
Because of you, I love
the white statues
drowsing in the parks
the white statues that
have neither voice nor
sight.
I have forgotten your
voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your
eyes.
Like a flower to its
perfume,
I am bound to my
vague memory of you.
I live with pain that is
like a wound;
if you touch me, you will
do me irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold
me,
like climbing vines on
melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your
love,
yet I seem to glimpse
you in every window.
Because of you, the
heady perfumes of
summer pain me;
because of you, I again
seek out the signs that
precipitates desires:
shooting stars and
falling objects.