As you picked up another poem from your front door, ever since a few weeks ago you went out to a bar and completely blacked out and somebody brought you home… but who?

“How does Love speak? In the wild words that uttered seem so weak-“

All the poems had been continued throughout each other. As you looked around, expecting nobody, you see a figure in the distance, as you got closer, the man turned around, “Oh how I’ve thought about this reunion” the man softly spoke