In the end of the day
I've harvested the sun
with the sapience of an old man.
Her words were as big as her smile
and I touched her hair made of waves
as gentle as the sea
and thought to myself:
have you ever tasted so much beauty?
Wild horses racing in my chest
as my heart felt closer to her,
and her warmth, her scent,
were touching me with soft fingers.
Standing as one, our shadow in the sunset,
reminded me of a picture hung in a museum
named after her and built by me.
When she left, emptiness started crawling in,
and as I watched her leave I thought to myself:
just as the sun rising and setting,
everyday, her beauty lingers.
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Olá Mimi, obrigada pela nota, estranhamente eu não recebi os comentários no e-mail. Vou já ao teu cantinho espreitar. ;)
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