Is there true love?

The first thing that comes to my mind is maybe. Not the kind of love that is taught. Not the kind of love I imagined when I was a child. Not the kind of love I wanted it to exist so I could think that there was some kind of better place. My mind wakes up in the same place everyday. I wonder about what could have saved us? Knowing less? Talking less? Less time spent together?

I do realize now that winter is coming and you're leaving. I missed you last night like you can only miss something that's part of your own flesh. Remembering our first dances in my living room, where days later you'd start to say that what we had was our private milonga. Milonga La Bordeaux.

So, winter is coming, but this time I will know the perils of being yours.