May I hold the gushing breeze
In my palms
Not letting it go like a quicksand
For it is just a matter of seconds
That the foetus will liberate from its weak heart to sleep into the cold hands of a mother
In my palms
Not letting it go like a quicksand
For it is just a matter of seconds
That the foetus will liberate from its weak heart to sleep into the cold hands of a mother
