Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Timothy Mar 2018
I remember our first conversations,
We built a place full of commemoration.
A place where we secretly call it our very own
the documentation of our transformation was shown

happiness was running through our body,
where our little place was hidden with caution
some days, it would  feel heavenly.
Few days, it could feel like the rigorousness of the ocean

Steal little kisses and hold hands
How our eyes blink.
‘Cause we know our bloods will never understand.
What it feels like to be young and in love with no extent.
The myriad of colors
only expose a fraction of possible existences;
it's not about colors, but about divergence.

The inner world
extended to contain the whole universe,
living side by side
with frozen possibilities
that never came to exist
in order to expose a truth
that earned this title
only by the chance
and rigorousness of time.

Only experience convert
thought into truth.

— The End —