Lovegraphy

After these things, as a covenant,
if I'm not in your memory
believe that I have no intention of building a throne.
I'm just undecided,
my voice is alien to its true note.
My fingers that remember the letters
also change color from shame, and
My palms are already wet.
all the streets are as foreign as the cities left between us,
sometimes one day is not enough to walk around one corner.
What am I different from the endless bunch of willows?
I'm alone even if I stand the drought
and is my shadow useful to anyone?
I'm like a child learning to walk again.
encourage me as much as you can
hope again.
It's as if my memory of you has been drained
from my jugular vein.
I try to recognize again what I saw,
If I'm lucky, I'll rewrite what they showed...
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