Bad dreams get lost in the humid air
My hands run through your pretentious hair
Some shades are seen and some walls are moving
This new display it’ll soon be ruined

Cold wind pretends it’s already morning

My lips are dry of an endless roaring
Some drinks got spilled and some smoke got out
I could have stayed if it was allowed

Your wings are spread and your eyes are closed
My feet mislead by your messy clothes
Some words are said and some thoughts are hidden
If I could run would I be forgiven?

by Natasha Romanova

Model: Ilia
Retouch: Anna Liwińska