"The day you do not ardas of love, many will die of cold."
François Mauriac
 |
| Teide, Tenerife |
In the winter when you've left me.
follow even dying of cold,
looking for another kiss, I know little,
dream that I know,
Amarte as I look.
shiver to hold you close and do not hold,
Erizarte skin
Playing with your hair curls.
Say you do not want my kisses,
scrapping the warmth of my arms,
me out of this winter.
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