She was soft as wax
and tender as a spring flower,
and took the love that fell
of our love.
She was the only way
to continue almost alive,
my umbrella, my shadow, my friend,
my loft.
Ahead,
Ask if she was my lover,
you can know
nor my lips said love,
nor did his kisses erase your footprint,
and if you do not want to believe it,
call her,
Ask her.
Neither my lips said I love you,
Not even his hands erased your footprint,
and if you do not want to believe it
call her,
Ask her.
She was fire from the hogera
where to warm the cold nights,
I was thinking why you would not be
instead.
She was the last frontier
before leaving your destination,
the canal, the narrow road
to follow.
Ahead,
Ask if she was my lover,
you can know
nor my lips said love,
nor did his kisses erase your footprint,
and if you do not want to believe it,
call her,
Ask her.
Neither my lips said I love you,
Not even his hands erased your footprint,
and if you do not want to believe it
call her,
Ask her.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)