• Old love new nights

    Old songs new rhymes,

    old friends, new songs,

    old days new light,

    old smell, your arms.


    Sweet peek, peek a boo behind your closed shoulders;

    should i come in ?

    Join you in the middle of a dream ?

    I'll take with me old rhymes, childishly biting your thumbs,

    -because of hungry love, because i'm the hungry child-

    bringing with my perfume rotten flowers,

    old songs, new dreams, old rhymes.



    Anormalie ~

    « Privait tu me disPensées réchauffées »

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