quinta-feira, 27 de outubro de 2011

Things were colder in the sun,
Than within these darken sheets...
You're breath fogging up my glasses,
As we swirl in crazy dances.

The pictures we had...
By not seeing them... sad.
Somewhere, images... puzzle up,
With white teeth and big smiles...

I urge the touch...
That makes my chest a torch.
And your sweet mellow smell,
It's like something that I'll never tell...

I miss the air from my chest...
As I felt full for so little time.
Cause the absence you demand is crime,
Why not let our souls rest?

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