"You and her eyes are beautiful too.
big eyes, eyes that are sleeping. Eyes to my eyes.
Eyes for new eyes. "
The time to go to the beach is only a windshield of television images: color on color, air entering through the windows, and your laugh for peaceful power, which is close to the half-closed mouth, eyes front, always in front. On your neck a string of pearls, and the seat belt. The momentary taste of two lips.
Mom. You're my mom.
do not know you much to predict, but I recognize you. It was you, waiting outside the cave. Your embrace is too large to enclose in your shadow; Your body is a soft spaceship to travel on the route of a warm sound, which echoes bounce in my chest, down my throat.
"There you are, there for me."
There is a cat, carefully scoop out the silence in the pauses between your breath and the next.
You let go of pain and fleeting thoughts of pleasure, in a melancholy memories of contact with the skin. Your eyes unseen, for now do not play to exclude the light trapped in a room dramatically within the usual concentric paths, so confident today, tomorrow as provisional. Your eyes unseen, for now confused shadows created by their features, which turn words and hopes, prayers and forgiveness.
You wake up in a room that can not grow more than this: we will do it, in his place.
I will learn the coordination of the steps, the grammar of my thoughts.
You will learn to look deep into your intentions, to seek the direction of effects.
"Lullaby of breeze
some are sad, who is happier
lullaby sing to the moon
who is gay has a little 'more than luck ..."
I know you're there.
I feel your big hand on me. I feel the shape of your fingertips all the time slip away from the side of my forehead. I do not count as your love. I do not count the most miei respiri; respirare non è più una novità, ormai. Apro gli occhi, ho paura che ti possano aver portata via!
E tu ti volti. Le tue guance sono pesanti, il tuo animo leggero.
Vedo scendere scintillanti lacrime di felicità per me.
So che ci sei.
big eyes, eyes that are sleeping. Eyes to my eyes.
Eyes for new eyes. "
The time to go to the beach is only a windshield of television images: color on color, air entering through the windows, and your laugh for peaceful power, which is close to the half-closed mouth, eyes front, always in front. On your neck a string of pearls, and the seat belt. The momentary taste of two lips.
Mom. You're my mom.
do not know you much to predict, but I recognize you. It was you, waiting outside the cave. Your embrace is too large to enclose in your shadow; Your body is a soft spaceship to travel on the route of a warm sound, which echoes bounce in my chest, down my throat.
"There you are, there for me."
There is a cat, carefully scoop out the silence in the pauses between your breath and the next.
You let go of pain and fleeting thoughts of pleasure, in a melancholy memories of contact with the skin. Your eyes unseen, for now do not play to exclude the light trapped in a room dramatically within the usual concentric paths, so confident today, tomorrow as provisional. Your eyes unseen, for now confused shadows created by their features, which turn words and hopes, prayers and forgiveness.
You wake up in a room that can not grow more than this: we will do it, in his place.
I will learn the coordination of the steps, the grammar of my thoughts.
You will learn to look deep into your intentions, to seek the direction of effects.
"Lullaby of breeze
some are sad, who is happier
lullaby sing to the moon
who is gay has a little 'more than luck ..."
I know you're there.
I feel your big hand on me. I feel the shape of your fingertips all the time slip away from the side of my forehead. I do not count as your love. I do not count the most miei respiri; respirare non è più una novità, ormai. Apro gli occhi, ho paura che ti possano aver portata via!
E tu ti volti. Le tue guance sono pesanti, il tuo animo leggero.
Vedo scendere scintillanti lacrime di felicità per me.
So che ci sei.
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