Dream tomorrow
Apricot
Mouth laughs, who is the lane
And dreaming a little blue-purple,
Purple at all, to call poetry
The dreams of a summer afternoon,
Directions forever in me,
And rise, the area is up when we walk through the old street
I thought to bury in May last year
Why do people know how strange
The stranger looked at me again and laughed,
Suggest that today me
A person who loves, the age of the afternoon.