No doubt that love can come, without conditions or rules. Just being pure and sincere. I would not like to be misunderstood but it is a small dedication for your beauty miss.
— It's very precious what you say, but being me the truth I don't know, it's really strange but it would be like being you, a bath of centuries on top, with an overwhelming nostalgia, but at the same time with a desire for a love that lasts for eternity—
What will it be to be you? This is the enigma, the overwhelming attraction to know, the irresistible desire to drop the anchor in you, to possess you. What will be the perplexity of being you. What, the mystery, the ailment of being you and knowing. What, the stupor of being you, truly you and, with your eyes, see me. What will it be to perceive that I love you. What will it be, being you, to hear me say. What, then, to feel what you would feel.
