One night to remember

As she cries, I'll take her hand and listen, for there's no better sentiment than genuine expression.

It’s not suprising at all, to make of one night as the starry eyes touch you, an ambiguous sentiment whose emotions are genuine and honest. I wait for those moments, bathing in those tears, feeling them as if they were pure gold. It’s not nice to take pride in them, or make a young woman cry. But, oh! How I wish they were mine, and then I could dry them myself, and wish you good luck for you’d be cold despite of that one time, when we met, and you told me: let’s make of it the last one, for there’s never enough in those places where the foul is greater than what is truthful and bare. We’ll drink and we’ll eat but nothing can change that woman whose feelings sat on my shoulder.