The year we met, you were three and I was eighteen; the year we fell in love, you were sixteen and I was eighteen; the year we parted, you were twenty-two, but I was still eighteen. Later, we decided to stay together until death. You forgot your age, and I forgot my age. I only knew that the sky was barren, the earth was old, the sea was dry, and the rocks were rotten. All that was left in the world was the crook of your neck, and my smiling face buried in the crook of your neck.
Conception: