rain in March
It was raining infernally... and us... we're doing love at some mansards. Through the windows of the sky, oval-shaped, the clouds had been flowing in the March's. The walls of the room were agitating behind some sketches in chalk. And our souls were dancing into an unseen, out of a concrete world. "The rain will pour on your wings", you said, "And will rain with lump's ornaments on the whole globe, and through the weather". "Doesn't matter", I was telling you, "Lorelei, it rains only on my flight, with the feather...that's all. Then I rose up higher and higher without knowing in which part of the world I left my room. You've been calling me out from behind: "Answer me, answer me... what's more beautiful...? The people...? The rain...?" It was raining infernally, a total madness of rain... and us, we were doing love, at some mansards. I'd have never wanted it to experience the end... never...
