Must be the wind

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.