The January of 1904 (1904)

Ah, these January nights
I spend in mental recreation of
those moments that I meet you,
and I hear our last words and I hear our first.

These hopeless January nights
when I'm left solitary by the vision's leaving.
How precipitately it departs, dissolving
all the trees and all the streets,
all the houses, all the lights;
and your erotic form's erased and lost.

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