And in the end the thought disappears.
An idea fades away if it is not illuminated.
Perhaps, if I shared the idea with you,
It would be continued with you.
You don't return to the places of your love.
You create,
insignificantly trying to reduce the distance.
It's like the smell of grass.

  doublegrasss@gmail.com          

And in the end the thought disappears.
An idea fades away if it is not illuminated.
Perhaps, if I shared the idea with you,
It would be continued with you.
You don't return to the places of your love.
You create,
insignificantly trying to reduce the distance.
It's like the smell of grass.