Your standing right beside me.
Although so far away.
I inhale your essence.
The seasons begin to change.
Although so far away.
I feel you near.
I'm helpless to wither into the memory of you.
The harsh winds blow.
The warmth of you still lingers
I feel you near.
The fever of our passion continues.
A dry heat left behind until the wind blows.
Continuing to count the days until your here.
The fever of our passion continues.
Exhaling deep sighs of compassion.
A mere wick igniting the sun before it snows.
Simply sitting.
Waiting.
I inhale your essence.
Although far away.
Your standing beside me.
Feeling this feverish chill.
Existing until the next go around.
Until next November
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem