a fruited smell
The sound of cofee,
My scent on her hair.
I avow the dream!
I live beyond today!
The words fly, flew
Leaving a trace, a face...
The trees sung me dead poetry
And I realised
That I died there
At each raindrop
With every sunbeam that stabbed me...
This nostalgia tastes like the dawn...
My scent on her hair.
I avow the dream!
I live beyond today!
The words fly, flew
Leaving a trace, a face...
The trees sung me dead poetry
And I realised
That I died there
At each raindrop
With every sunbeam that stabbed me...
This nostalgia tastes like the dawn...
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