I inhale
Fresh air
Produced by my
Dear friends
The trees and flowers and plants

I give it back to you

Well look at that,
We do have something in common after all;
Life

Take my hand stranger,
for thy hand fits perfectly in mine
for there is no reason to be insecure

The lines of our hands cross each other, floating rivers meeting, like an estuary, passionately touching,  but never perfectly fitting (as real love should be)
Our nails glancing to each other; the same happens when your blue eyes meet my greenies
Our skins stunning each other,  blushing, softening the insecurities they both feel
Our joints silly wrestling with each other; O the subtle touch of them

Take my hand stranger,
for thy hand fits perfectly in mine
for there is no reason to be insecure

I am tired of grieve
I wonder
Should i love you?
Should i?

I want to
give
you

but i can't give you

This isnt sometimes
This feeling is always

wait; my old man said one early night like old men do

never give up, on giving the girl who secretly wants your giving

(You'll see, my girl
One day you'll see)