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5 noviembre 2011 6 05 /11 /noviembre /2011 02:01

A earth quarter far, a windy rainy day,

A day quarter lag, an ocean in between.

 

The sofa is missing that legs you used to stretch on,

the hairbrush is looking at your silk hair,

the air gets short of your perfum.

 

Light without your shadow,  

Mattress without shaping your curves.

A lack of you everywhere.

 

Up to the neighbors are resting of our pasionate nights.

My mind gets back to its old neurosis,

just need to make me free of them before you re back.

 

Wonder which road we ll take.

Surely any of them will be fine.

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