lunes, 25 de julio de 2011

I miss your empty hands to fill them with mine,
the walks around the streets to get to know the world
I miss your laugh, your kiss, your touch...
Not growing old when I´m with you.
The streets we passed by are all covered in dust
And even though we might never meet again,
our memories will remain,
for it cannot be in vain all the love we burried in the moon.