My melancholy was gold dust in your hands; <br />On your long hands I scattered my life; <br />My sweetnesses remained clutched in your hands; <br />Now I am a vial of perfume, emptied <br /> <br />How much sweet torture quietly suffered, <br />When, my soul wrested with shadowy sadness, <br />She who knows the tricks, I passed the days <br />kissing the two hands that stifled my life<br /><br />Alfonsina Storni<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sweet-torture/
