Walking London has a whole different flavor when I hear your feet together.
the need to stay close was present, the city so vast and cumbersome in their lives, now it was a surreal scene, wandering aimlessly had always been its a little truth, rarely happened to share it, never had been much appreciated.
She was leaning a bit 'too much in his world, too fast, bringing inspiration and poetry at the same time, could not be removed.
The vastness of the stage made it very small, and the stage she's well acquainted with the stages, but had always had reasonable measures, now was a dancer in a stage too big, his eyes ran down the edge of the city with the same enthusiasm of a child, without fear or dread, serene and strong, more than him.
narrow path, maybe the wind, or just a touch, a gesture, a presence that was there, only to be neighbors would not be enough.
The sun made the river dropping more importantly, its last rays on the faceted surface crepe shaken by the wind he saw them reflected, as they crossed the bridge.
talking and talking, walking, I could do forever, without anything, without a half without a reason.
moments like these and how others will remain with them, little things beautiful, unforgettable and magnificent, the wind, the river, his feet together.
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