would you hold me tight?

Dear Jorge,
a touch of feeling arise from my heart, mixing it strangely with somehow sadness, and i can’t really tell how come i am lost in a strange place, a place that is far away from here, a village on a yellow plain, and is surrounded with a amount of yellow hay, piling aside, when i want to look at the front door of the village house, I can’t really tell it becomes so shady and but it’s so familiar to me although i can’t really understand your language, but i can hear a sound that is from a conventional instrument, and i could see an Indian come and breathe out a cloud from a long tobacco, a woman named Elena is quietly sitting on the stairs on the streets, and I can’t really know why, it reminds me of an artist Gerogia O’Keaf, a purple petal is wore on her right ear, and could not be taken away by anyone, I can hear you humming in your mother-tongue as a boy, your voice is as tender as a piece of leaves drifting in the air, like a willow, i can’t awake, but i hear your voice, and i wanna go to your homeland, a real place that I can really eat latin food, and embrace you in my heart, I really miss the place, and i really need to get back to there so that I can really find my home, would you hold my hand tightly so that i won’t really fall off from the city.


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