At our distance
spring snow falls.
We have frozen in our patience,
in our hope,
even the flowers are afraid to be touched.
It doesn't counteract anything like a fragrance of division,
but the sea of alcohol lonely in our veins.
This difficult time
that we would pray for
to evaporate like alcohol
and drive them one by one
all uncertainties.
The hot water kissed the stuff,
soaked so many times
as the fingerprints are fading.
Kiss catalogs,
to the numbness of hugs,
leaf by leaf are torn.
At our distance
as a space between strings
we hear the blood train
with the faint voice of life.
People are not seen,
our eyes are getting sick.
Deleted one by one proximity titles.
At our distance
our eyes ... heavenly bridges,
expect miraculous signs from above.
MA
