Hold it!
Milliseconds of our
Connection in the green pond,
Where among the words of ancient
Ancestors our reflection is melting in the
Premonition of an undreamed desire.

This
I disclosed to you in the first
Stanza, now I'm taking
All the memories of
Days from simple acts,
When we used to
Steal pocket money for
Our gang of canned dogs,
Whose furs sparkled silverly in
The sun.

That's how
Our childhoods ran past the
Years, passing restless mouths of
Which nights had teared off the
Zippers
Dude!
It's already this late?
What did the thieves
Do to the time?