segunda-feira, 21 de dezembro de 2015


I've become accostumed to the way
my own clasped hands stay by my chest
when I lay on my bed 
to count the stars above.

Though, lately, my mind started filling the holes
they leave when they fall,
they still shine so bright as the eyes of my love
when she looked at mine.

And now, I keep thinking if she still looks at me
while I'm starring at the sky...
searching for those little globes...
wondering if they still feel the same.

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