- cifra
It’s on your lips
Held like a fist
A concussive wish
To know you
You still laugh
To talk of the past
Now contrast
We’re strangers
I still recall the day that we meet
You were wearing your calico dress
Out of all the things that I regret
Honey you are not one of them
We are mirrors
The color clear
As we disappear
Life reappears
Our eyes are flint
I meant what I meant
In sickness and health
