Dearly.

That Feels Credit that one feels when he does not feel at all you emptied of words they died the mornings Heart machine-gunned by the bullets of your absence if the jazmine already does not give flower if the house the Sun does not enter I still have dearly I am without you uncovered without your loving hands desolated, so deeply madman, dear evil in love That feels, when everything finishes with the gravely injured soul, which is sorry that one sits, with the fire left by your kisses, your caresses, which one feels.