I dry, you are the rain that flushed my body. And we are fertile land with loose soil. Then feelings grew in it. Under the heavens I pray, that I will be strong enough to hold you back any longer, so that you won't disappear or come home at any time.
Love is the harvest of feelings that can make us survive in a bad season, before actually coming, after we're really cooked.
Indonesia, 23rd December 2021 Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho