'Without' slits joys. Mine.
The kite is a paper
on the field
Without the thread.
With effects
it hops and falls.
The steering is
For the vehicle.
You understand it well.
Without you, me a phrase.
Complement me.
When do stars shimmer
Without darkness?
Where do fruit
Come to life
Without trees?
'Without' suffocate thee, too.
Be the wings I long to fly.