Befriending stranger pieces of my own puzzle, a known rhyme you gifted me. I, on the other hand, inked each perfection of your imperfect verse. For all, I fell in love with the first stroke in your name and you fell in love with the moment I risked it all and marked you mine. A twisted destiny where you were everything I never spoke of and I was your language, scribbling you down on a piece of paper. It seemed like a hassle- to think so much and to do so little, but, oh darling, your existence was the delayed mystery. ~ a poetess & her poetry.