The parentheses of his smile seem to be an infinity of quotation commas to a story perhaps their little tale. So, it won’t ever end.

As he laughs, his special lady seems to pause for a second before returning it back.

The balmy wind flows in where who knows where, I wish and cross my fingers that it would whisk away those secret whispers between them.

For it seems to be the ingredients for happiness.

There comes that shiver of such tangible affection and love again.
It is enveloping them everywhere, its inside their eyes, it permeates the very air.

I watch her meticulously strain the tea, patiently waiting for time to pass for it to "steep and infuse” which  I quote from her as those words escape her lips. And finally when its ready she announces it with such happiness, I cannot help but feel metaphorical little rays of sunshine kiss my skin.

And the irony is that the sky is painted black with the stars as a sprinkle of sparks. Its precisely one of the reasons I fell for her.  

I have said it before.

But I’ll say again, I can write it till the very ink bleeds across the yellowing pages.

Like time and the concept of love, change is infinite and boundless.
And that is when I notice the half-drawn infinite symbol on her window.
There is a gap in it.
That little gap smarts me, I carefully join up the two lines and there, it is now complete.
Whatever that dances on infinity will never lose its way.