Of what we are, of why we were. We are nothing in its disappearance.

Words hardly dealt. Expressions; its kind means life. An experience, only yet. To live; it's love.

“Expression, is only caught in the interference for life.”

“To its condition, words are brought to space. Kept by life to explore and recall its division.”

“So if to pry a kind to life, by its expression. Can we be one by love.”

| Its love; is life |