You came to tell me that the word is windy
and doesn't have a form.
A promise is a game,
Because the human and the dog are the same.
You came to tell me
that the time oldenst you trickily,
and the wrinkles in your forehead
are put stealthily,
telling you love words.
It is bringing me words
from an abbys to another one,
that time stays tightly in your puls.
In the ether another time is coming.
Your time with another sun,
and another moon.