From me — the wind. From you — the years.
The storm stood close. Your hand drew near.
My palm — the ocean, your cheek — the shore.
"Not now," I said. "You’ll taste much more."
We’ll be stronger, twice as bright.
Will strikes fate — in D3’s fight.
White alone. The board is clear.
No black. No fear. Just staying near.
Chalk lines fade — the cut begins.
I smile, I tease — don’t blame, just be.
Be ready to love me, sharp or still.
Be ready to love me, raw and real.
So when the winds in sails grow thin,
So dreams begin where days have been.
So when the calm outlives the tide —
You won’t be alone.
Nor I.
From You to Me пер
© Copyright: Катерина Снегирёва, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125072106738
Свидетельство о публикации №125072106738
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