Leaving loosened tresses Upon the shores, where currents dance As the sun raises A highness, a glow upon cheeks that were meant for The many lugubrious kisses. She has deceit, that sometimes loosens All tears to cross the delicate slopes On the highest rocks. I am, as I want The love, to remain While the stains are buried into angered hearts, While fewest marks become loosened Like fingers that unfurl Softness from curls, Of tresses bleak and mournful, Of lashes from eyes that see the sky. I have killed the gladness of a swollen vein, Among all remaining tears that rain Life upon the hollow selves Of ourselves. She is the woman Of no defeat, For I have left her ample dresses To discard herself To them, While her skin is merged with the glass For her admiration, For her destination. Empty rooms glow like rocks Upon the precipices, Upon the naked shores, with faded sand, Faded photographs taken of a nude form, Colored like ivory or snow, Colored like the beige of bone, Stuck upon eyes that loosen tears To be kept upon cheeks for many years.