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 ~