The lyrical sound melting in amber oil reminds me of that time I saw the spring sun dancing on your vinyl records.
I felt everything I wasn’t: cold, satiated and in love. I recall the one thing I didn’t say: this will last a second, you and I.
The saltiness of the sea, baked bread and morning brew, they all tasted the same to the foreigner in my room.
Outside, a word or two from the revolving thoughts, hidden away by soft, white footprints from times long gone.
For I have walked on dark grounds, through hidden passages, searching for myself in someone else’s senses.