Your eyelashes will write on my heart the poem that could never come from the pen of a poet.
Love is an endless ocean, with no beginning or end. Imagine, a suspended ocean, riding on a cushion of ancient secrets.
For hundreds of thousands of years I have been dust-grains floating and flying in the will of the air, often forgetting ever being in that state, but in sleep I migrate back.
Listen to presences inside poems.
The universe and the light of the stars come through me.
May these vows and this marriage be blessed.