Season melting into my arms
My sentimentality is not a product of my hope
which still prevails
though the weather ties me back
The cold of the backstage walls
brings me comfort
connects me to a memory
subito!
It becomes glorious to remember.
a present wind is pleasant
so long as it doesn't sting
But to feel the waves of matter
slipping through the creases
soothing the cracks of old troubles
It is everything to breathe