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Un-Titled ©

by Yuan Jian
London, England
2002

Touch, feel like your hand leaves a cut in my heart.
Tears, feel like my soul wait dawn in your face.
Loneliness is so long make me believe your promise.
Even though I can't see you and hear your voice.
I still believe your whispers.
I still believe we can reach each other.
When I close my eyes I feel your breath.
So I know I am alive now.
Blood is dropping in my hand into my body.
My heart is talking to cold walls trying to warm this dark night
And I keep asking myself
'Would you be here tonight?'


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