Misread Sonata
I played my sonata for you but you did not hear me touchning the spaces of the melody-painting points ommiting the sounds of my meanings your hazel
eyes assumed that my feelings were something quite different Interpretation is not an easy task in the field of Love after all it's like the art of modern times just worst Our meeting of lips spoke less this time than what we have grasped seating arm by arm spilling the sea caressed sand in between our palms I whispered your song last night but through the redness of wine
everything seemed to be coloured in blood with this grotesque melody I craddled the night to sleep while it kept my eyes opened I think
I forgot for a while what we've said and
distorted some of the less pleasant remarks
For the sake of believing in this paper-mache
charm
Later it was just me in all my spontainety changing the flow of the colours and the calmness You know On that night when we've meet I looked for adventure and you did not expect to get half of that
Mess while I wanted just that
but I happened to get ironically blessed
with something else
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