In the café, stories get lost. I deliberately search for me. I aspire to find my lost person so that he can tell me about its causes and my reasons.
I aspire to lean on his shoulder and move on. I will not ask him where to. I aspire for him to make me a companion in the endless distances. In the café, I feel the opposite of what I said before, for you to hear the noise of my gossip about her between me and me.
ليست هناك تعليقات:
إرسال تعليق