my shadow left my soul with the shadow of your hand my shadow, when does he return and what if yours does, with his? I feel like when all things are seen not as themselves, not as just colors not as colors with just a few sounds woven tightly in their place. I want to show you love, if to love you only means now nothing. love would be a single sentence only and you cannot step into the river twice, without stepping out a time and again time in your hand a single leaf. in your your's a love went singing long to love you would be a longing sentence now but not even for a moment can it touch not the colors, not as colors which is the one thing I touch with no sound at all, in some places still now at times the river which had run out, flowing through a brand new place always, always in the shadow of you
