8 Martie

I dream of rain,
I dream of gardens in the desert sand ...
I wake in pain,
I dream of love as time runs through my hand...

Fall, Sacele, 2009, driving back through the shadows of the golden trees.. Watching the sun falling inlove with the horizon again.. Like every day.. since the Univers puddled in its hands this ball called Earth..

Smiling, remembering, feeling, enjoying, .... only me, my whisky orange car... and the thing... called ....... love.




Speach less..

Yours,
Me