me rapidly putting clothes on, crazily rushing towards my Heaven
is like a foolish mathematical equation
almost surely means being late, i'm being awfully late, i wont see you
i start running, two flying limbs, praying to the universe to please set the time right, set it good, maybe a few seconds behind
but then it all stops .. no more racing thoughts, just a slight tremble of lips
''oh'' - the most beautiful sound my mouth has ever created
i catch a glimpse of brown hair and a red jacket
and i finally
understand it all.
it was all made for you and me
those silly clocks.