Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.
I wish i was one of your tear,
I would star in your eyes,
Live on your cheeks,
Die on your lips,
But if you were one of my tear,
I would never cry for the fear of losing you.....
