I don't know when I will promise you.
Perhaps, it was when you removed the heavy iron ring for me.
Perhaps, it was when you understood and hummed the melody of my song.
Perhaps, it's the spoonfuls of sweet and hot porridge in your mouth.
Or maybe it's the flexible butterfly fluttering its wings in the paper window between your fingers.
Or rather, we once pinned our thoughts on the same bright moon among the clouds.