i've got it, finally, mostly sure: subtle and pitiless, me, dried eyes almost like they felt that way all along. less and less of myself feeling, oh, again, and you! i see you, those birds have confused the natural progress of things, little chickens hatching in a shiver, february now, two days of holidays and i figured that magic would have it that today something clicked in, romantic and predetermined. i heard the error in the day, saw you, back to that: i know i'm the only one who has seen that your eyes and your lips match exactly, oh and your skin, and the color of your hair too, all of them sitting there in plaid. pretty, in th eopen window of a valentine hangover, the beautiful one though, woke up with fingers sleeping in warm absences, too perfect not to ruin.