Building Paint

I will return. Someday. With yourself - calm, quiet ... as a sea without wind. At the threshold of one heart I will undress the longevity later. To the left, the metronome will be silent. My hands the keys will caress. In the breath of past days (between heaven and earth) the forgotten path in one love I will repeat again and again ... I will return. Sometime. Again. At home without a threshold. And without stars. Without words. With summer fatigue of the traces that I have traced in. As the bed has dried up, from the outer to the inner circle, gathered the oceans of the days. And today - thrown on the shore ... And only in nights like this one a cricket between the boards (With loneliness. And with me you forgot this world ...) will look in the old trough lost bow (hopefully find ...) For a new song to the heart of her own love.