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nothingâs forever but some things donât change (or at least stay within the same range), now this is your city and that is my fate: shouldnât have come here for I came too late. yet still Iâd like to stay and see what time can do, to see if I can get over or get along with you. intimacy, you say, is a matter of time, and youâre right, this I know. but thereâs not much left until I have to go..
for so many years Iâve been trying to prevent myself from trying to reach you my hand. now back in your city I had promised myself not to call, but couldnât resist at all. and so we spend the day with talks and lemonade, and I will face a fortress Iâd still like to invade. intimacy, you say, is a matter of time, and youâre right, this I know, but I donât have any cause I have to go.
and I still feel small when I stand next to you, still question everything that I do. and I can leave your city but cannot leave behind the questions you engraved on my mind. i wish you could one day be as meaningless to me as the friends that I abandoned or the ones I rarely see. intimacy, you say, is a matter of time - so I donât have a chance to cast more than a brief glance at you