Sort of poem written during a night shift.

I wish you could understand my language, 

because then I could just write Me haces falta

instead of writing I miss you and explaining  that somehow

you were part of me, and my body needs you

like pieces of a clock, a puzzle of my soul that needs

to fit in yours again.

I would post on your wall all the songs that talk about us

you would listen to  lyrics full of passion and know

that what I am living hurts and you would

perhaps...

decide to call me.  

But if I find a song in english

and sing it to you over the phone

Would you laugh of my accent?

You should understand my language

that is not formed by words

but by feelings and references

and some sounds that come from my guts,

Then I would not try to make a rhyme

without success, just to make sure 

some part of the passion

the hope, the pain, the love

goes through...simple words.