Video, Sound & Pictures

 
 
Lylia falls...
 
in january hotel.Every room a weight of silence.Our kisses are melting on our cheeks like the ghost scars of snow.
 
Lylia cries...jumping from the hightower of every promise never kept.Windmills are digging for nightingales in blind horizons.
 
Lylia dies....inside my arms...her hair like waves for my hands to dance on and to drown in.I'll keep her sane and safe.My tears will be her earth...My memory her grave....