Poem

You, held all the bad memories,
things I've tried to forget
and traveled far for that.

I, all the good ones;
and I keep returning
to this private Babel,

where the highest tower
of asking for one's
forgiveness is built

upon a second chance
at Love, eager as always,
for one more try.

Your absence is my damnation;
Wish you had taken away
the unfinished monument,

along with the lingua of your heart.