He said he was a selfish fool.
Yes, he is.
My fool.
I’m thinking if he knows
Life is all about:
fooling around.
We are all fools, dear.
Don’t take the cloth
off your eyes.
Let you’re fooled
by life,
and see
if your roads
cross mine.
She has gone;
when the sun was dying-
on the last day of the world;
my Sun is no long shining.
Dear, do you calculate?
“Nope”, I bet you would say.
Your eyebrows always make a curve,
when I talk about numbers.
But have you noticed ever?
It’s 122 days we’ve been together; and
already 10 nights I depressed my cheek on your shoulder.
And in 24 hours of a day,
54,000 seconds alone I would stay_
turn my jazz on, sit on the window sill and wait
’til 2 hands of the clock shape an angle of 30 degree
and you would come back to me,
leaving hungry touches over my thirsty body_
And love would sweep through the night,
as if there would never be goodbyes.
After all, I know… they’re just numbers
that one day I will not remember.
But dear, does it really matter?
My boring calculations make me happier,
everyday when the numbers keep growing bigger.
And I’m grateful that we’re still together.
Love you.
