And I swear I'll fly, I'll fly and not even the doves will be able to catch me. I will be a distant verse, poetry that falls in love and I'll not die until I become a shooting star. (Caption..) The stars in the sky and your kisses on my forehead. Does it sound familiar? It hurts? Wasn't that what your mouth preached? Weren't those your ashes? Yes, those that pushed the wind when you smiled, those that danced in the background over us, those that started the abyss, those who did not understand letters or roses. The stars and your kisses, the sky and my forehead: petals without brushing, intoxicated velvet. The stars in the sky and your kisses on my forehead. Wasn't your mouth rattling on my splinters? And I see you, I look at you, you slip through my fingers. Get me out of here, destroy me in lilies. Blow and build castles on the shore again of those kisses that started our afternoons. Come back and make gold sprouts from my skin, Can't you see my fireflies went blind? Come back and spill my vases, Can't you see that my sunflowers no longer want to paint? Come back and squeeze my chest. Hold it on your windowsill and bring him sparrows dipped in honey so I can swim in dreams again. Come back and shred all this ink, that comes out of my veins when they sing, that my words ooze when they suffocate, that dies when spring blooms. Come back, come back, And show these stars which way to go, to this sea to release all its cinnamon, to these kisses to set fire to the sheets.
