What is it within me that requires 
The capturing solemnity of escape? 
That imagines so many failed fires 
Burning softly in the winter air? 

With a look, you arrive expecting 
To find me waiting for your touch. 
But love does not bring me anything 
Save for shallow words and promises. 

He who demands shall never surrender 
To heart of passions and fading joy. 
For if I am he, and you are her, 
Do we not create our own defeat? 

Come hold me if only for a second, 
Until the truth causes us to be alarmed. 
That words we use are sanitary pretend 
Which hold promises, but do not suffice. 

Why do I seek you only to retreat? 
To want you but only as a shadow? 
Let us remember that hearts cheat 
When they beat in contrary flavour.