You loved me you said.
But I was never quite sure.
Yes, I think you loved me
but I always wanted more.
The more that I needed
I never did receive.
And so when you said you loved me
I found it hard to believe.
I could never quite reckon
with just what was missing.
It was certainly not the hugging
and certainly not the kissing.
It was something intangible
I coudn't put my finger on.
Just when I thought I understood
the thought would be gone.
And I'd fall back to the same old pattern
of loving you too much,
always waiting your approach,
always craving your touch.
You love me you always say.
Still I'm not quite sure
that when you are saying it
why my heart's still sore?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem