Sometime I must admitt I miss you, I miss all your cold ways, because it was just damn good when you finally smile after the freezing silence, I miss you because I could always predict you, you were like my daily experience, like the tiny funny things that use to happen me day by day. To confess myself I really never expected so much of you anyway, you were just a little girl, and selfish, afraid, little girl playing to the lover, and I was the poet, lost in the crystalloid reflection of the sky brights in your green pupiles.

After all you were mainly the cause of my happiness, I got admit that my life is a fullfit deception, ineptituted over the creation itself of the feeling of surprise, and you were that little spark that heat my sleepless mind, you take me out from my boring, even with your cold lips, dry and close as your heart. I'll never understand if was just that I come to late or you don't even need me, I just create the illusion that you adored my just like for a while I did for you...

There's no one to blame, time pass, people get the rid off each others, you wanted to get over, just don't know of what, and decide was of me, so here I am, with this confession that sometimes I miss you.

Really I miss the almost necrophylical way we used to spend our nights, evenings, the blushing on your cheeks, the uncertain movement of your waist over me, like a stormridder, like all that I'll never taste again, fortunately I'll never get use to your scent, to your taste, to your touch, you were there, somehow trying to enter, I was floating nearby in utterspace.

After all you teach me something, love isn't enough for a relationship, sex complicates everything, I'll never get use to the natural beauty of infidelity, I'll wish to omit details, two hearts connected against two distanced minds never ends really well, our souls attempt to join, but our will attempt to kill, destroy, chaos itself, is my nature at it seem, overwhilmed by confussion, I just love that, to be sincere I'll do it again, for this endless nights of bittersweet inspiration that your memory broughts, I'm a poet, you were my little girl-looking muse...