he’s like the night of a full moon, shines so brightly far away from you. he blooms like a first line of a love poetry, that you reread again and again. like your favourite scent crossing paths in an unknown stranger. like the sleep after crying so hard? like a taste of your first drink of summer. like a picture in the field of sunflowers. like a hundred years old poetry. like the first sunshine of a winter morning. like the smell of soil after rain. like a love that you read in books and fascinate about? like your secret place with the best view. like home? like a forever love of a dead poet. like everything and nothing at all.