tears

The tears roll on your cheeks like lazy lilies,

while clouds rain our story down in letters

written in striking colors on the houses,

doors, windows, walls, over the city.

Now everybody knows what’s wrong with us.

The slams, smell like hot bread and fried potatoes

but we’ re not gonna having any dinner.

Only our heels devour miles of roads,

wake those , who are sleeping down the basements

our heels only, eat the shadows on the pavements

they eat the night, but ,still, can’t get enough…

t