Yara

Love is a breakfast test, in this summer, of trauma, don't I feel blessed, sailing dangerously, with a would be Cassanova, all his troubles start with me, they roll around my head, this tremendous performance, the metaphorical duplicity he sheds, howling like a banshee, his complaints grow enormous, I bend like the breeze, the radio roars its manifest, everything inside me falls, goes weak, seeks wine at 8 am, shocking that he's never at ease, a boat rocking in a storm, I try to calm the sea , call upon the holy ghost.