We don’t speak, the silence fits,
like worn-out sleeves around our wrists.
I know the weight you never say,
we carry it the same quiet way.

By
We don’t speak, the silence fits,
like worn-out sleeves around our wrists.
I know the weight you never say,
we carry it the same quiet way.

C’è sempre un filo di nebbia…
"Mi piace""Mi piace"
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