You and me ourselves both are here,
A man and a woman growing together,
I mean not hand in hand nor sufficiently near,
Nor in a hurry, seeking perfumes of the earth,
Nor surrendered to consume our freedom at birth,
But, in a manner, here absolutely we may stay,
Spending waves of breath in a meaningful way,
Going elsewhere shall mean we appear there,
We may inhale happiness and rough among care,
Without the directions, we suggested to each other,
You are trusty and me, an ancient term lover,
Man and woman satisfied by their own delight,
In our usual performances at a slow night,
Keeping perfect company without much argument,
What you promised and I did too show commitment,
Honest to each as long we don’t go to a crowded place,
Where every morning with clothes, we wear an odd face,
Where ritual love and our humanity are threatened,
Nor decide to cross the angry brown river to the bay,
Where we are, by the noise of defeated waves, deafened,
Where the smell of salty sea corrupts your scent,
And your love whisper becomes no more than a lament.