It's the way he says my name: like music.
So many things become beautiful when you really look.
But that's the problem with love - it acts on you, works through you, resists your attempts to control.
It's as though the words are trapped, buried under past fears, past lives, like fossils compressed under layers of dirt.
You came form different starts and you'll come to different ends.
You can build walls all the way to the sky and I will find a way to fly above them.