jueves, 18 de febrero de 2010

I'm in love
with a checha
that doesn't love me

but I don't care
'cause the words
we said are flying
high through the
space of love

changing winds
are flowing and
growing...

no hard pain
is resisting low,
trees come out flying
clouds go down
vanishing...

as ilusions grew up
dying...
and fears
became little
dark leaves

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