I'm being waited for in a city very far away from here. In the desert she waits while I wait for my sky to rain down this concrete city, this place has the ugly habit of just shouting the coming of a rain shower, it usually passes us by with less than a trickle.
   But time passes by just as quickly (or slowly) in the desert as under the raining sky, we're both waiting for the exact same day, the exact same morning when all this distance will be reduced only to the space between each others lips in a kiss. We have a habit of kissing before we say a word, embracing in a tight hug before we can take a breath and fly to a mountaintop before we take a single step. We ride in strides, only because we don't have as much time as we'd like, we only have those fragments where distance and time are distracted tormenting someone elses poor soul.

   But we've had our times, our spaces, and we've managed to use them efficiently, properly, giving ourselves the perfect balance between surprises and comfortable rutine.

   No kiss is the same, no embrace is exactly the same, just like no snowflake is completely alike, every look she gives me opens up a whole new day, a whole new sensation where, with that look, she can communicate and entire lifetime.