3094 This train of madness

I dedicate the cloud,
That falls from my eyes
As falling cotyledon,
To the sweet and tender
Apocryphal sensation
That you made me feel.

And to clear all trace of doubt
Of what am I telling,
I mean this train of madness
For which you made me go,
In which every vertebrae
Was an ephemeral station.

We boarded without ticket
Nor premeditation,
And believe me that the ethereal
Panoramas that you made me live
Remained magnetized to my retina
Impregnated to the myelin
Of my nerves
Stuck to the empties walls
Of my interior.

I mean,
Your tongue and my tongue
Were links,
And my body and your body
Put under siege without remorse
To the cruel unhappiness.