М.
And yes, we’re alive — that quality’s ours,
Not theirs, the ones we so adore:
A transparent flame burns in our eyes,
And lines that make our spirits soar,
And tears that travel the length of the cheek,
And warmth from each other, and glow.
To touch — hand in hand — is the life that we seek,
We’re living. We’re lucky. We know.
2026.04.04