He was staring at her
He was telling himself it's the last time.
He was making sentences of her hands
At night he was reading her
He was reproducing every movement by heart.
He was disassembling her from her details
He was having more than lack of words in his thoughts
Though he wiped his tears with a dream,
In order for them to come back no more
And so he was dreaming, dreaming about her
Every night, every day, he was dreaming about her.
He was already knowing her odor
He stole it some day, when she was standing in the doorway
The rest he came up on his own
Because of her he forgot to sleep at night again
He was trying so hard to flash on somehwere inside her
To look for breath on her hot body
To breathe with her warmth through the sleep
He was looking for ideal words, in order to make her stay here
When he woke up again she was away
So there's white wine for a good sleep