Love story (6)

Sometimes I'm tired of counting the days

From time to time uncertain

I don't know how long I'll be like this

Sleep in silent waiting

The wound that used to scratch the heart

Slowly recovering swallowed by the earth

But imprinted in the depths of the heart

Not washed even though hidden

Memories of the past

Still intact piled in the heart

Always haunts my memory

Even if it's dust

Not enough leaves to represent the evening breeze

Not enough violet clouds to represent the cool weather

There is a roar without rain, who can represent hugs besides you?

What else besides drawing longing

There is only a black pencil and your shadow

Your eyes and the space between them, is a sentence that makes someone stop talking

Then write until the end of their life