Strange things blow in through my windows on the wings of the night wind and our words have wings, but fly not where we would.
Something open our wings, something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us: we taste only sacredness
Our hours in love have wings, because I believe that if one always looked at the skies, one would end up with wings.
So, don’t be afraid to fly.. because we have a wing. Just fly away with me.. with a love wing of us.