“I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.”
It all depends on whether we are watching it dissolve or fade in and begin.
...Still I would want to be someone who’d answer to me:
Someone who sees like a child, gives like a saint,
feels like an angel — never mind the broken wings,
and speaks like a picture, cries like the rain, shines like a star,
as long as the fire remains.
Excuse me, are you lost? Perhaps you would care to visit the site map