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Slow

The horses in the smoke, they seem wild, like your eyes

A cigarette in your hand, and through the curtain of smoke, I can see you smile

Your hand is Helium,

It floats close to my face, it flies

I hold my gaze, hold the moment, it passes by,

Only to return in a nameless dream, as my only escape,

oh! its a high

I see, a ray fight its way to you,

it stops, it gathers its strength and it tries,

to be who you are, it burns and lives a thousand lives

Her each breath is a whisper,

and for never a word was said

yet she sings to me,

she's mine!

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Written by
tariq-khan
Published
Dec 11, 2012
Lines·Words
14·114
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