- cifra
I watch her as she bathes
Through the mirror in the room
She notices and smiles
We struggled getting up
We went to the opera
And then out for some drinks
Had such a good time
She doesn’t like’em sweet
A fraction
Of tension
Affection
Attention
It seems we knew too much
With so much left unsaid
For some reason I left
Knowing I wouldn’t go back
We talked about her books
About our childhood
She certainly is rare
I felt for her such care
A fraction
Of tension
Affection
Attention
A sharp edge
I need it bad
I’m formless
All’s become a blur
