whenever I’m hot
my ceiling fan gets turn on...

Professor Cortese, with all due respect,
I bring my self to take more than one step...

I want to travel the world of your thoughts,
I want to visit your heart and settle there once...

I remember when we used to play...
streets were puuddles spitting gravel...

yesterday as I was watching the numbers of people...
I was thinking how much I love the numbers...

Our time together has come to an end.
The roads we walk diverge...

Tomorrow a flower grows
in fields of sorrow, fed by shadows of an Oak...

Within a privacy of a room, with curtains closed,
and a dim light, a wife politely asked her...

the number of infected people keep on rising
like waves trying to drown us...

She was herself like some kind of bookshelf
which held hundreds of books that no one read...

I never loved you like I love you today
but I did loved you when I first told you I loved...

Lids hug each other;
this type of love makes one dream...