jueves, 3 de febrero de 2011

Goodnight my dear.

Goodnight my dear.

Sharpening the knife…
You came straight to me.

The bed I whispered by,
the shame you never felt,
it was night and getting dark…
The way you stabbed my chest.

A kiss before I go,
a blanket for my face,
a tear from you to enjoy…
The silly lovers dying there.

Goodnight and then again…
Holding hands I’ll see you there.

The bed you whispered by,
the shame I never felt,
it was clear and getting white…
The way you kissed me again.

(…)

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario