There must be something in the wind
Every breeze that passes me through
Remind me how much I really wanna see you
I wanna hear about the birthmark of yours
And the time you are taking to come to me
Why r u late
But that’s fine i shall wait
So let the seasons wander,
let the stars change their places,
and let every wind return to me
bearing only the promise
that one day,
it shall bring you too.
How dearly I long to see you—
to trace the little birthmark your wear
as though it were a constellation
placed there for my eyes alone.