la boule


ça coule
ça roule
la boule
descends entre mes...
entre mes doigts

keep exploding
nearer and nearer to the fields of time passing every tingly sweet time

i miss you dear partner whispering ever so gently into the wind next to my scalp
i miss you love singing into my nostrils
i miss you

where are you hiding?
where are you sliding?
the slopes are calling

time stretches us
pulling moments further from our fingertips
will they forget one day?
will your dust still be present when i pass through?

the slipping onto your wrist will gracefully stay on my skin
the turning of my heart onto yours is locked into time

ça coule, ça roule, la boule

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