"I love you."

The first I tried not to feel anything, and the second you wrote "I love you."
With your finger on your dark back, whispering in dreams you said "and me".
On the third day sailors who cried like the fourth returned to their homes.
You did not see me love, I dried with anger on the pillow.
You did not even ask "what's wrong with you?" and a star in the window happened to me.
In the fifth I asked "how much do I have left?" You lied to me "I think you only have two"
Warm your feet with remnants of a grief that when brushing with mine left.
The next I got the urge, you noticed on the back, you laughed, then no ... this part of the story I keep. Without changing his position, he changed me ...
What happened, my good, what happened? that we lived two different stories, that you forgot my song among the people, that you sang until the next one and it was goodbye ...
The next a leak of kisses perched on your neck, a love without fear, an attack of jealousy, the waning moon would be me.
In as much, as much love as he forgot to say 'do not turn in please', I liked it, it does not matter and whoever has it, the sleeping accounts
Love love ... I could neither forget you nor want to.
Success of my life, Galician surname,
Love, that's what we lived together, the miracle of your six minutes and these four that are for you ...