I'm waking up before the dawn
gazing at the gray ceiling with sleepy eyes
seeing something is not there
but sure was.
effortlessly, light as a feather
I'm drifting to the open window
waiting for the cold to get inside,
with bare feet there I stood
and stood
until I woke up with you
by my side.

why should you keep
   the secret ?
  
   because...
   she's not yours to love.

blue words on white paper
that's what she wrote in secret
then placed them with care aside
near his black glasses
to surprise him or not,
that ended with:
your love.

wandered far into the dreams
while you were in front of me,
chests which touch when breathing deep
and counting down seconds until the kiss.

escaping death! is this for real?
can he or she be so willing
to pause or forget a moment
or to make a trade with us
because, in any moment of the day
we are important
we are humans!
the only souls that matter for he or she,
which gazes us in the eyes and bones
and smiles or screams when obtaining our souls.
oh dear death, you play my life like an artist!