If I still love you,
Why do I dream of holding
his hands and not yours?
Why does he fill my reveries
and not you?
Why does the picture of the future
paint his face and not yours?
But if I love him,
Why am I not strong enough to
look him in the eye and say:
'You give me my truth and meaning
each day'? Why can't I choose
to be with him? Why can't I take the risk
of falling in love; throwing all
caution to the wind?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem