O, how the crowds welcome you!
Every eye was praising your presence, Longing to touch your dulled armours. What tragedy that cost you to be such a Romance Survivor? What moves you to leave the knight in blood? When it surreptitiously hugging Her ribs, bathing its lungs with an ocean of misery. That one time when you were putting on your armour to fight, did it make you feel like a warrior? When I kiss your torn lips with fuel, does it light you up to the ground?
Knotting bruises, firing arches, dancing in the breeze, all that. All that… Does that make you feel like a true Romance Survivor? And for once, can I tuck you in my sleeves with my lack of great helplessness? With your dearth of answering the questions, With your running presence and all that kissed wounds…
