My tear. .
Will travel through
the white of the eye
Searching for a
shore.
Trembly, seeing the sun
Lowering his
eyelid
Writing a dream
in his notebook,
Then he returns, and forgets that:
He was writing it. .
A letter by a letter.
He cries if he loses his love.
He forgets that:
He drew
the rendezvous. .
He
drew the farewell.
Oh my tear. .
Instruments of love are not for sale!
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