Far out of reach cameras to film us attempt to grasp
The glass is not transparent
But ornamental and decorated
Pieces of our hearts we can never have returned to us
Yearning to open the jars
put the missing piece back in us like a puzzle
Words of love don´t escape our lips locked in a muzzle
Pieces of our hearts pulsate in cold acidic woman water
Uncaring and vain the flavour when it´s drunken by the adventurous
before his core is cut and extracted to fill the murky liquid
pieces of our hearts preserved alas not ours anymore
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