What is it within me that requires
The capturing solemnity of escape?
That imagines so many failed fires
Burning softly in the winter air?

With a look, you arrive expecting
To find me waiting for your touch.
But love does not bring me anything
Save for shallow words and promises.

He who demands shall never surrender
To heart of passions and fading joy.
For if I am he, and you are her,
Do we not create our own defeat?

Come hold me if only for a second,
Until the truth causes us to be alarmed.
That words we use are sanitary pretend
Which hold promises, but do not suffice.

Why do I seek you only to retreat?
To want you but only as a shadow?
Let us remember that hearts cheat
When they beat in contrary flavour.

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