Elena

Poor without kindness, that forgets how to handle, those who slip, your search for the free, dangles like a spider, in songs on the wind, the way you kiss, makes my skin tingle, for better promises, so close to the sea, the sun marks your skin, nothing is witnessed, you are less spin, than you imagine, revealing your sins, please write to me, send me your laughter, until we meet, don’t insist, on making a film, it’s nothing to this, our life on the shingle.