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Sunday, 16 November 2008

all the colours sleep

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I feel the wind changing, the tide turning.. i feel... that is the first step into assuming I'm real again, not a secluded ghost locked inside the hermit body that carries out my folly..

I hear her voice, like a well kept secret, how she has the precision to be firm yet gentle, the frailty and decisiveness with which she plucks the strings... it sounds so pure, unencumbered.. full of purpose and nonchalant at the same time..

This is how i picture you, head cocked to the side, watching the rain tear up the London skyline from you Victorian Student Dorm.. This is how imagine you all by yourself, wearing a button down flannel black shirt and white hotpants - you always knew that look drove me wild - getting up and dancing with the particles of dust spread across the room, humming along to a melody you picked up years ago, the same we shared when we kissed under the rampant moonshine..

The guitar is yours to pick and when you cry inside you let go the warmest of sighs.. the thought alone breaks my heart but the look of you makes me strong again.. and you place you hair behind your ear with your free hand and you signal me to hush myself.. and you blow me a kiss and you blow me away..taken by surprise

you're there somewhere behind the eyes that scan me, the voice that melts me, the laughter that chokes me to bits, the scent that tears me apart... the beauty that broke me open.. that moment is frozen forever and i relive it everytime i think of you..

and no one came closer ever again.. and i hope you do.. but one wanders.. was it cold that night?


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1 comments:

Leto of the Crows - Carina Portugal said...

Se tivesse mais jeito para o inglês, diria palavras mais sofisticadas que um simples "gostei", mas a minha ignorância impede-me de fazer tal.
Contudo, sinto palavras com sentimento neste texto ^^

Um beijinho!