Like the leaves at my feet
He is a victim of gravity
The unbearable color of things
And as his raincoat covers me
We know it was never raining
The shoelaces aren't done
The solitude reflection of his fate
And as the shadow covers me
I thought he was only sleeping
The smell of lavender and tar
If the telephone should ring
God knows it could never be him
More from Emiliana Torrini