Different, but one

Holding you is like holding a part of me. Outside of me but not vulnerable. It possesses a certain strong character–something that depicts strong emotions.

Looking at your eyes, I see my own reflection. The feelings extracted through the windows of your soul seem to emit the same feelings I do have.

The feel, the touch, our skin colliding, it feels like founding yourself in the body of a different person.

Different, but one in heart.