The London Hours, 2012

Standard

*

there must be

a reason if wheels

move me

.

name road

camper or trip I’m

long gone I follow

.

the ones who go before

me no hesitation those

are the ones I choose

.

bony and matter fo fact

raiders of clouds and no pockets

hands on me eyes ahead

.

stop me now as I

long for you across

the fog on lenghtly roads

.

treading snow

seeing you reflected

a kaleidoscope on other arms

.

hands on a twist of words

on a puff of smoke

in my dreamy days

.

I wish you back when

we know better we are

not made for this time

.

no more

love no

.

.

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