quinta-feira, 31 de dezembro de 2020

Acoustic versions

 What is it about you
that touches me so
that I'm a cat,
I blink slow
as if our souls had already met?

The only so much and small
that makes you this all
where I could hear you forever
about trivial
and vital,
and not say a thing, ever.

Where there's such things I could do
and you only have to ask
my breaking dawn and my dusk,
and this will have many and no name
always said as a prayer, never a shame.

31/12/2020

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