Everyone has their own story and this is ours.
It's like the waves of ocean along the coast— flowing in different patterns.

The rush of love, the surge of fluster.
It's like a faint image of cold forest.

The rustle of the leaves, the blowing of the wind that brings peace and wraps my skin.

Yet it's like the rising of sun that chases the night.
Two have met in a brief instant
but shadows were the ones left,
leaving traces from a different timeline.

Like an art, it made me see beauty; made me feel things.
Enabled me to find myself and lose myself in the process.

But I consider it as a book:
My favorite one.
I slowly read the words and phrases, savoring every scenes and chapters.
It seems like little spaces in between are infinite.
And I don't want to end it.