He won't ever kiss my lips,
he will not know how my body smells,
he won't touch my spicy sweat
or hear hot whispers making craze.
My sparkling eyes are in the past.
Nothing makes my dark blood boil.
I am like a statue on a high marble arch.
internal angels are loudly moaning.
Spring will come,
seeds of love will probably grow.
I'll see dandelines , will breathe newly born mud.
He'll smile at me, will present a gift that is not wanted.
I was dreaming of love.
But see ...he has a stony heart.