Mora Amaro la Loba and Marcus Nalgaber /Music/Video/Art/

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Regards,

Marcus
 
The dark in which I hide


The phone vibrates
on the table
its silent mode
does not prevent the incomng call

I see the screen
that lights up
in the dark
in which I hide

I know it`s him him hi
but I I I
I am no longer me

I am a parenthesis
of myself
a space
between before and now
empty and alien
to cause and effect

The phone vibrates
on thte table
its silent mode
does not prevent the incoming call

but I am far
eventhough I am close
out of reach of his voice
and his kisses

in my nest of dreaming
at the mercy of a gentle wind
 
Night of echoes


Night of echoes
that appear in the ear
with distant insistence

Footsteps looking for themselves
among their own mists

Night full of streets
that only exist
where dreams are lost

Night that reveals the depth of the dark
around the light of a street lamp

Naked night of everything
tell me if you saw me pass
because Time stopped
but I didn't stop walking

I saw a woman
that without running ran
dressed in the sadness
that a lost girl has
 
Make me perfume


air air
of yesterday
that mixes with today’s

with which I wrap myself
as if it were a cloak
cloak cloak

soft and warm
soft and warm

that protects me from languor
of what lies still in oblivion
of what lies still in oblivion

air
air of yesterday

make me intangible movement
dilute my shapes
make me perfume x2

take me slowly to his face
let me in his mouth and nose

I will be the aroma that I was x2
 
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