Is it the wind, my love, when I get memories in my face?
That howls your name and yells out mine?
Is it the rain that replicates your footsteps?
Or the clock is playing me tricks again,
locking if it is time in vain?
Your picture took your place next to me in the sofa.
It seems to be smiling.
I kissed you serveral times today.
Did you feel it?
My reflection fades away in the corridor of mirrors.
Yours is burned in my eyes,
so yes, you are all I see.
You're my reflection.
" Au claire de la lune", i'm losing my mind.
I hope my asylum will be kind.
I'll take my eyes and your picture with me.
I need you.