The poem
You don't survive in me because of memories; nor are you mine because of a lovely longing's strength.
What does make you present is the ardent detour that a slow tenderness traces in my blood.
I do not need to see you appear; being born sufficed for me to lose you a little less.
beautiful- it has moved me in the deepest sense. i love the quiet resignation, the sadness, and the static longing of it