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Friday, July 31, 2009


I would really want to trust you,
to trust a little
in your pride of Swiss watch.
Pleasure or displeasure,
I would almost retry,
fall back, redo my steps.
But then,
there is that thread of pain,
that drop of boredom,
that tiny fear of having my heart hurt
But then,
the invisible sidewalk does not exist,
and; if it does exist, it can't be seen,
and the songs are not listened at all,
nothing can be heard on the top of the sky
when I kiss you.
There is no sound track
as in American movies.
There is neither firework,
nor bell ringing, nor angels chores,
and the soil under my feet does not quake
when I kiss you, my love.
Heart of who knows whom!

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