Tap At My Window

You tap at my window,

And burry in my pillow,

I wonder if you’ll be here when I awake

To see the sunrise

 

The Uttum is fading,

together with dreams… like

paper and ink

in a

 

Summer Day

 

Will I see your face

With my wyes closed?

Maybe the sillouhette of our past

And the removabel marks

 

Of Time

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