I can write your name Sandra
with cigarette smoke
With closed eyes speak softly
the man who asks for you
Write with joy Sleep
It expected on Monday afternoon
clear voice and pop in your legs
I can do with your name
a rain of stones that burn
Sandra
and walk in that flame tongue
and I spell it with the heart pulse
Now nobody listens to me
I can draw your name in the veins of the wind
and expect your body in my ashes reborn
EN 
MK