I cannot be comprehended without my permission, her aura whispers—
To which my yearning soul murmurs, “...Something lost behind the ranges. Lost and waiting for you.”
As we exchange soft gazes mid-conversation,
A rally that rivals that of Simone Frediani and Daniele Pecci—
Smiles, chuckles, and everything in between.
My mind wishes to be pardoned for its presumed eagerness in each exchange;
Her empathetic nature allows it in amusement,
To which my soul once more references a relatable line from one of my favorite poems:
“I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought.”
Though I may no longer hold my breath for follow-up encounters,
Still, they remain dear to me.
