Love is the line where you retreat, and I resist

Looking at photos, I feel happy, and my purpose is achieved.

I want to take you, with flowers in hand, through the streets and alleys. It's the clarion call of a charge, it's my oath in the name of the divine, it's surrendering a part of my talent, luck, and effort. I still look at you with a smiling face like this. As long as our hands are held together, roots will grow. The gap left by the intense beating of the heart has solidified into a firm structure.

Flowers bloom and wither, the moon waxes and wanes. Everything has its rhythm, so does my love.