The Right Question Who I Love

You have one chance in three
I never said it
I never admitted it
Not even to anyone

Yes a mad love spark the treasures of the senses without the touch

But not the fruit of my bowels but of my love for him is his reflection perfect that I will love all my life even beyond the same when this beginning of year, to make believe, I have enough, I miss each Second of my life, it is he who hides his life by touching his babel towers Armenian family I understand myself but he believes to be from the north then from the south but it is neither north nor south but beyond the illusion Of the starry horizon, as usual I await it like him waiting for me hides one loves madly without being able to touch each other all the day one plays, to pretend until one hides oneself not to be 'a

Physically without him I'm cold but when it happens by flapping his wings I'm as usual the happiest in the world with him this is good year I said no no I like him to die like him...