The drop of tangled teardrops hangs stiffly in the air.
Time does not exist in this space.
I steal a glance of you looking at me and kept it save.
As if the last quanta of yours would be taken.
Although I have come to understand now, then it would be my last too.
In an alternate universe, time took shape in a circle. We won't have to loot anything from time. Or trying so hard to make it still. Our fate will repeat itself.
We would become constant. None of our amount would be taken away from us.
But here now there still so many things I need to take care of. And you still need to figure your own.
All the unspoken prayer between us it has its own pit and by grace my beautiful river, you will see how each of them would be heard.
