I slept in the morning dew, with the palpitating joy on the seashell eyes, laying beside me.

He engulfed the mess beneath my faint soul. I was merely wretched, he rescued me from the chaotic self of mine.

We were fleeting ones, sailing in the ocean of grasses. We succumbed to the force of reality. We escaped the excruciating fate of each other constantly.

We pledged for an eternal gaiety: a golden slumber, in which we would eventually found place for our non-adhering spirit.

Thus that early dawn, we stopped glancing, as our bodies trembling little by little until they ceased.