While touring
Into the distant
Adventurous past,
Gallivanting in the corridors
Where jewels of memories hang,
Of moments spent together,
I stumble upon
The newness of thoughts
that rays reflect
And eagerly uncover:

A crowd of ifs and buts
gather and spill,
questioning me:
What kind of reference point is he?
Why don't my feelings rot,
and why do they dry not?