i'd like to whisper you every morning
while holding your thaughts in my eyes.
love above love and skin in skin
like old habits of an eastern town.
on autumn's brests we put our dreams
further than lost hope and will.
on february i was child
but march pulled me way.
long lost and left forgotten hearts we carry in our chests
of misery we won't complain till misery we'll be.
chains and memories are daily alike
like roads and late walks.
late has it been. soon has it ended.
our love of bigamy and cruel descent on others' souls.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
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