it was our very first meeting
but i already imagined,
how we’ll be cuddling
in years we won’t be counting

Not all rivers
end up in the ocean–
doesn't make their journey
less worthy.

Not all love
ends up in a lover's arms–
doesn't make it any less
worthy.

the hatred
like a matrix
pulls you deeper
trying to climb but it's steeper
no love
you feel below not above
losing all hope
falling into desperation
it feels like suffocation
the hatred of a nation

My Dancing Girl-

Perhaps the Spring
In our Leap

Has stretched but
My Spirit Soars

With your head
Rested

Upon my shoulder