That smell of roses too deep for a sigh br Just cross your heart it’s all that yields br Fingertips sealing the signs of the sky br br Too many of them shall fall on your breast br The ribs are too thin for a shelter bone br Too many will scar the skin on your chest br And you will wish you’d never been born br br The moonlight bruises the light morning air br Drunk lips scatter whispers on the glass brims br The moonlight cuts the sunlight in your hair br Mercy you’ll be freed in the first of sunbeamsbr br Miroslava Odalovicbr br