[You can hear the air moving the l e a v e s of the p a l m t r e e s. Last rays of sun and it’s June 3]
We walk on a white-washed street and Forget Me Not flowers on the fences screaming this is your new world. You are that world, your eyes are Portofino in the middle of a neighborhood of coins.
We are walking and you stop because you look at a window of someone, while I was (I was) fixing the shouts of light on your temple, living the new world.
[All my cracks filled with water]
It’s warm pleasant, we walk, seeing life taking and not just wishing,
-^^^- we have excelled in the plastic world.
I stood by the **^use with the most beautiful garden, I touched bird in paradise and you say that it’s [our garden]
Reality strikes The days pass by Two lines Different seasons Separate stations
[Reality hitting on the rocks]
Curve line erasing the good things of the past 2 drops of water falling on the way to the office | | | | | | Old soundtrack passes over parallel tracks Theater full, broken line
Days pass and pass Birthdays pass, not words Difficult to pretend to be well No words happen
Places I’m not, line closed Places you are not, closed line
Romanticism doesn’t feel the same as maps on our maps 2 parallel drops fall | | The game hits me against the rocks You don’t follow me in a straight line
[Reality catches me]
there are no words there is nothing thick fog
The same lines Now they are parallel Your reality hits
Dewdrops on the meadow reflect memories to the roses. Her sighs painted the sky of the North as the church bells echo in the tall trees*
*,, Oh, Anamaria, leave your floral meadows. And watch the reckless waves trying to escape the sea. Listen.... They sob for you lover, his soul lost at sea ,,