unlike the summer sun, your glance creates a great need for sheep's wool to
cover my small bones with...my hair has grown gray and unkept, my eyes are
said to have lost their hypnotic ability and my hands tremble without the
cold..when I pass a thought of sharing my bed with the stranger
  staring helplessly after the memory of a faded past which I did not want
to end and the history that will remain a legacy to my heart, for , I made
love to you, in the morning , afternoon and night and I do believe that you
will love me.