eightythree.

Tell me something I don’t know. Write words on my heart; those words of silver and those sentences of gold. If my ears continuously remain open, I could even become the richest girl alive. So please darling, fill up my pouch. If I could possibly find a way to take in every moment of you, surely it’s guaranteed that I would be the one to die quite happily. I can only wish to unravel your mysteries, let myself explore all of your sacred places. Perhaps, I could build a shrine with these eyes and invite the sick into a visit for healing. It’s a guarantee that they would all leave feeling fulfilled.

I hardly know you, but your smile seems promising.