I remember you.
Living into green dead hours.
Going trough a lonely window,
made out of uncolored globes.
Always silent, always strong.
Someone told me to let go.
I said: I won't.
I believe, but I'll never know.
Very far I see you'll go.
No one really knows their words,
and there are many kinds of love.
Maybe I should start walking,
get used to say goodbye, and don't.
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