he derives and I laugh

Whether I hate him or not is mainly a matter of nomenclature, maybe of degrees of separation between two antonyms. Words have lost their power, or the power i thought they had, or their specific weight. He has his own lenguage, so everything with him refers to the perfect art of philology. It is lovely that he won't call himself a poet in spite of his incredible polysemic virtuosity. So he derives and I laugh raising above mundane love. We both hate that word, thank the lord above. I am well aware of the cowardness of writing in english. It is lighter and not my truth. I am using just sounds that represent feelings that I don't wanna have, much less hear in my own words. So I guess I'm using another country to confess; I like him and it's a nightmare, not because of the scary plot, but for the absolute notion that I'm dreaming soon to wake up.