how is it so real that,
in 8 billion people breathing;
thousands of people crossing;
in a foreign country, we met as strangers.
we talked with our native language
strangers we are, spoke \'till dawn.
it was cold outside,
you lend me your warmth;
you said, i can have it.
it was our last, encounter; i thought.
but the strings, being not visible,
pulled us, once again.
i found you driving me, when I arrived back home
turned out we have been tied with the same string, long time ago.