the story between your fingers.

the story between your fingers

was told at night, in a quiet room

with sighs and whispers.

when can you say it? when will your tongue unleash?

words are distracting i know.

but there's something i haven't told you

my problems are called you

that's why i seem indifferent just to feel a little more secure.

i have no idea how it happen

and it seems to me a little dangerous to tell you about the sweeteness

it surpasses the logic in my head.

all i know is that am here.

against wind and currents i move.

what else can i do? when the heart knows, who can tell it NO?

So tell, tell me the story

the one your fingers have told my face

the one your eyes have told my eyes

the one i alleady know.

by fabiola alejandra labra.