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wet soils. Tell

No espero escribirte a love letter, or any poem. Not today. It rains and makes me sensitive.

Just something enough to know that I speak to you, and me ... and of those golden times.

Sometimes I get to kick you out of me scattered menos.Y in the air,
like the petals of the rose you gave me.

I do not expect you back, even once more. But maybe I'm waiting.
Who knows .. Because I do not even know me.

I love you today, but alomejor is nostalgia I get from the rain.

But if tomorrow the sun rises .. you forget me. And so on.

rainy days I hope to come back to me; because they are my favorites ..