Love is a feeling everything that moves. Sometimes, a traitor changing identity. Flee and fly a boomerang, leaves you with a smirk in the wind. That… I am this wind. I vertigo… I this boomerang back suddenly. I’m cupid, and work as cabbie love. And no matter if the love is young or old, long or short, only matters to the heartbeat shake wrists and mouth. As happens to me after shoot an arrow of love.
Today, I propose you to travel into me. Then, I wish you to travel alone. And, at the end… tell me your story.
[The ‘game’ is quite simple… i'm just catching (mine-your) imagination. I’ll catch an image and then I'll translate you, in words, what it makes me feel (or just the other way). But I wonder what you’ll be thinking of, when you see them? What you're feeling… because, after all, it is only my point of view, just words of mine. I wonder where you’ll be traveling with them and it would be perfect if you could bring something back into me. I wonder if you-we can?]
Love is a feeling everything that moves.
ReplyDeleteSometimes, a traitor changing identity.
Flee and fly a boomerang, leaves you with a smirk in the wind.
That… I am this wind.
I vertigo…
I this boomerang back suddenly.
I’m cupid, and work as cabbie love.
And no matter if the love is young or old, long or short, only matters to the heartbeat shake wrists and mouth.
As happens to me after shoot an arrow of love.