I'm wallowing in the last droplets of my glass of wine
And a river of self pity.
Wondering,
What makes my melancholy?
And realizing that it's your ghostly presence.
Taunting, teasing,
Laughingly joyful of its intangibility.
And mocking, every day of your Absence,
You miss me?
You miss me.
You miss me!
(June 15th,2005)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this alot actually. Its simple but you remember it.