I saw in you every possible potential. Every early warm meal by the patio—with every minute the flitted sounds of a subtle breeze— touching by us like a touch-less kiss. I saw every grit and wit there was in you like every other—but it was real and colorful and filled with the charm that every temptation could not compare. And there would be, these languid notes, as you lean to my left, and the view panning afar —and that so seemed— to make life as simple and perfect so more.