head, shoulders, knees, and toes [t'aimerais que ce soit vrai]

I've never gone

from the place I loved you.

Actually, since then,

I sculpt you in heretic poems

with air and without air

in my lungs.

Like a cylinder,

my sentiments rolled and rolls

[still] for being materialized in

my written and unwritten desires.

I've never gone

from the place I loved you.

I feel you in

my head, shoulders, knees, and toes.

Would you like it to be true?

I mean, to call you back again?