I am aware that you hide my thoughts in far away places. Wardrobes that hold your old clothes and forgotten perfumes keep me company. I am in that stack of old letters and Google chats that you have archived. I am also the faint whiff of lavender that remains in those weeds you have hanged by your window.
On a lonely Saturday midnight, when you feel like a holler, I am in the Teddy that you go to sleep with. I meander into your dreams, forgotten moments in time, etched into hard drives like a virus that you cannot clean, like a file you cannot find. I am the keyword you do not remember.
I am the red in your Gypsy blood. I will always re-grow.
On a lonely Saturday midnight, when you feel like a holler, I am in the Teddy that you go to sleep with. I meander into your dreams, forgotten moments in time, etched into hard drives like a virus that you cannot clean, like a file you cannot find. I am the keyword you do not remember.
I am the red in your Gypsy blood. I will always re-grow.
Texto maravilhoso amei bom final de semana.
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Ah memories,You cant shun away them in the closets nor swept them under the bed,.They will arise above all,just like love
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that's beautiful!
ReplyDeletepowerful.
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