There's something about your air
that makes my soul cling to you...

Stones; aligned like an
army queue 'midst the garden...

In February,
there is tenderness in the air...

Where you are, it's probably dark
and the screams of others are the...

Hurry up.
They're here...

I once stressed the sun
to the corner of your...

I will lay you;
a drowsy gazelle...

And then she sighs
and says in a shaking voice...

How trite it would taste
if I begin to paint you in blue and white...

We're amidst the crazy
city; October dimness, women with...

If only you were
a melody...

I remember
we were selfless, innocent...