Outa my life ...
I do not know why my heart
feel the force of a magnet
when you're in town.
I do not know why in me
a storm when I tell you. And memory
I llen7a
perfume and caresses,
of memories that poison.
I do not know why the future is a nightmare
gray.
Márchate of my life,
take my passion.
I know I have to survive
as if he had never shared with you the spring
and lend no more cruel game
of your lips, your smile, your eyes
hypnotize me. Would
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