Still I Miss You

by Inês Pedrosa

I turn to you for what I do not know how to be,

I spent my whole life trying to interpret you—what a delightful waste!

How I wish I could give you now the vast, childlike love I had for you.

Nothing could tear us apart: we were naturally free of the pitfalls of desire, the via crucis of possession and sacrifice. So naïve.