Published in
1 min readDec 11, 2016
There’s a heroism in her cries — Each teardrop a tale of marching arms and abandoned dreams.
There’s a science in her soul — a mathematical insight into the mechanics of the Universe.
There’s a restlessness in her thoughts — voices of Faces unseen yet purge her conscience.
There’s a perfectionism in her motions — the dance between Two unfamiliar worlds.
There’s an emptiness in her speech — words still searching for meaning.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Our hands meet at the end of a horizon.