Love,
I tell you this word,
repeated a thousand times,
perhaps without thinking about it,
like a litany.
I tell you this word,
that It makes me empty
by dint of naming it,
I don't know what it means.
why should I pronounce it,
feeling this agony,
if it doesn't tell me nothing,
I say it out of routine.
what feverish magic
burning in your pupils
that word tears me away
if I no longer know how to say it.
Why should I say it,
feeling this agony,
if it doesn't tell me anything,
I say it out of routine.

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