Makoto smiled
as she nuzzled
against him, and
felt her heartbeat
like a little
tambourine
in her chest, and
couldn't believe it.
His view got blurry
as he smiled, seeing
kilometers and
kilometers of lavender
flowers inside her eyes.
She came back, she came back, she came back.
She was there
because she, the
one with lavender
eyes, had asked him
if he would wait.
And he, the one
with forest eyes, had
replied that he would.
They were together, together, t o g e t h e r.
As it should be.
"You came back,"
he says with tears at the corner
of his eyes and a broken voice.
"You waited for me,"
she says, and her voice
sounds lovestruck.
Their faces are a poem.
They can't stop looking at
each other, fearing that their
loved one may disappear,
fearing that they will wake up
and discover that it's a dream.
Just another dream.
Because even with those eye bags,
the trail of tears on his cheeks,
the messy hair
and those dry lips.
Kyoko could swear she
had n e v e r seen
Makoto look so radiant.
And knew that
nobody, ever
would be as
happy to see
him as she was.
There's people
that say that the
love of your life
changes for another
love or another life.
For them, that
is plainly impossible,
for they are both
each other's life
and each other's
love, equally.
