Act VIII: First Sight, First Touch

..has such small hands.
hold on with those small hands.
fingers stretched out, holding loosely.
i love you.
it's as simple, and as complicated, as it seems.
no correlation of words, or syllables, or rhymes,
nothing can say, or mean it more than that statement.
i love you.

i cannot say if my heart has truly trusted anyone.
not until July 24th, and i saw those technicolor eyes.
that day, the rain almost killed us.
drifting in this ocean of us.
i allowed myself, free to feeling.
and i found you.
t'was on July 30th,
where our bodies corresponded,
and my yearning made sense.
i heard it, i touched, i felt it,
at the point where our lips met.
and when that feeling hit,
it sang delicate melodies in my brain,
and painted itself on the easel of my memory.
never to wain, never to fade.

how is it that i feel you in the rain?
how is it that you became more than a being,
an apparition, a phantasm, a presence?
how is it that fate determined a precise moment for our eyes to meet?

i remember once, i lit a candle,
and i heard the wick cackle,
the fire ignite, and my mind flood with us.
it's just chemistry to some,
but to me, it's perfect symmetry.
you and i, perfect symmetry.
as the words bent to leave our lips,
they knew no pause, never to abide to a mute.
they grasp to the meaning of us,
with open hands, never to let go.

time can be such a fickle thing,
as i heard it once said.
moves forward, no hesitation,
always clearer in hindsight.
maybe you have seen it before.

i do love you.
ahava, raya, dod.

are we still scared?
not of what we are, 
or what we were,
but who we will become?
are we?
are we scared?

answer me that,
and i will tell you whether or not to kill yourself.
answer me that,
and i will ease your mind about the beginning and end of time.
answer me that,
and i will reveal to you the purpose of the moon.