Flipping the pages of good old books
I found our little old note again
A note, which was a new cycle
Of two wandering souls crossing paths
To find each other in one another
Notes turned out to be talks,
Talks turned out to be a habit,
Habit turned out to be a new hope,
Laying a bridge in between
To reach out a bit more,
To trust a bit more,
To understand a bit more,
Everything felt right for a moment
No haste, no chase
Just pieces falling into their right place
For the first time
I have...