In this one you lies my death, and in this same you, a thousand lives!
In one you, the melting away, and the drowning too comes in many forms!
In one you lies melancholy, restlessness, a thousand chambers of sighs, and in you again I find silence, a little laughter, happiness dwelling!
One you is a sliver of joy, soft light touching and seeing, with the fragrance of a weary heart writing tear-soaked poetry.
One you is refuge in regret, one you holds a little laughter, one you carries so much pain, yet in one you I remain alive!
In one you lie a thousand doubts, fear and shyness, love and passion, drawing circles even in emptiness, returning always to myself!
In this you the writing of verse, love in poetry, rain's caress, keeping alive the small desire to live on even while dying still.
This you, that you, where does the beloved you reside? The one you I think of— only that one is absent, all others remain!
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