segunda-feira, 11 de dezembro de 2017

Forgetful

To whom you happen to confide
such smile and daring grimace
as token of holy silence
given away in your scent...
What makes you beautifully content?

What makes you know and do
this that lovers know and do best?
Was it from the people in the west?
You just let down your hair
caring nothing for my welfare...

Would you let me look at you
and a home where to hide
these hands, cold and shaken,
which so many have forsaken
as though pain was never there?

Teach me how to live and forget
in what time and day
you get up and lay -
from the inside out
just the things you can't live without...

26/11/2017

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