I had for three minutes, eternal moment.
So far, undaunted, past perfect and present unparalleled as a correction of my mistakes in the future of verbs full of questions.
The same smile, a little longer, experience gained, sustained kisses and joys experienced. The first impression was blind, the nerves could not watch you. In your neck veins bulged twinkling of waiting and phone eyes up and down alongside a sensual do not know what everything around you.
Green was not as touching. I prefer to see and then touch. On the street, in the car, in bed, at table, in the chair.
And do not understand anything because I just heard the silence of your eyes, almost orange, they said a little bit of everything and anything. Again, I heard little or nothing while watching your eyes almost orange, like the sun but cold, like fruit, but sweeter. Seeking and not found. As nonsense words: vanity, window, dreams, eyes, yeah your eyes, almost orange, like fruit, like the sun.
appeared and disappeared in three minutes and returned with the urgent need to see you again, actually reading you. As usual, opening your window day and night of madness and intelligence, that mix of flavors that you waste with your fingers, giving me food for virtual renaissance in the box that comes with my loneliness. The hate both but not leave you alone, which allows me to dream of the company of your eyes, almost orange, those, like fruit, like the sun. The reason for seeking your attention, ask permission to talk and know more. A surreal experience I have in anxiety and fatigue became almost see your eyes oranges, these, the fruit, the sun, which I recorded in a poem of three minutes.
Short but sincere, simple, ethereal dreams.
