Will I ever be able to tell you
where my thoughts went?
Will I ever be able to show you
how to see the colour
of that fine line
drawn by our little boat sailing ashore
between the water mirror, the mist
and a time we claimed for us
and wanted to be more?
Will I ever let my fingers
caress your skin and lips
like if they owned your will and lust,
and make your soul believe and trust
the opportunity dug in centuries
of hungry soul and feelings echoes?
Did our little boat sail ashore?
Will you ever listen ?
Will your eyes ever shine from desire ?
Will time close upon us
like hands in a prayer ?
COPYRIGHTHENRIQUEMENDES/2017
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