Your Hands

>> ...If your hands weren't there,
like I saw in my dreams
and the poets we made,

had all gone,
disappeared,
the what else,

then what else
could I be?

If your hands & my hands strolled together around

If they were to make friends we'd be possibly up
to escape from this world, from this no past land...

-Extract from No past land by Russian Red.

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