Sunday morning walks,
I saw the sea like you told me,
Surging and flowing onto new sands,
I saw that little park like you told me,
Clean and sparkling from an early shower,
I saw those baige and peach walls,
Sheltering you from little storms of the night,
I saw the mosque down the road,
In the middle of the sea,
I passed on a little prayer too,
For you, for me,
I turned around, I stood by what you saw.

This sunday morning walk,
Salty eyes and moist lips,
Frescoes and old buildings by the shore,
You were everywhere, yet never too close.