Noon and morning will not meet
But the sun and moon will swing
Tell me a tale in which flowers won’t bloom
Yet you’ll find them as glorious as spring
When being myself is as worthy as choosing yourself
The only thing you’re is all I wanted you to be
When being enough is no longer enough
What road do you take when you hear the soughing sea?
Most love is but acceptance
When being under the direct gaze of an ethereal light
You don’t need to see perfection but me
An undressed me like the sand grains in this beach
Look me in the eyes and appraise me as a minutia of this delicate world