My arms are
open for the madness of love
I hear
sounds a lot of sounds.
Times I left
some years ago,
The ears
over my hands fixed above,
Hurling
noises all around,
With hands
stretched am tied so low.
My eyes are
open to gauge the sadness of love
I see storms
a lot of storms.
Tears left
with years gone,
Show to me a
kind of
Painting, of
fleeting forms
That lies
and says it’s still not won.
With open
eyes, stretched arms and exposed ears
My feet, a
bit above the ground,
Days and
months take the years,
Love is
singing all around,
With posture
there so same at will,
I clearly see me waiting still.
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