Sweet Torture
Poem by: Alfonsina Storni|
My melancholy was gold dust in your hands; On your long hands I scattered my life; My sweetness's remained clutched in your hands; Now I am a vial of perfume, emptied How much sweet torture quietly suffered, When, my soul wrested with shadowy sadness, She who knows the tricks, I passed the days kissing the two hands that stifled my life |