Ah. That.
Those coriander scents that pursue me round market stalls.
Those nightime cries of the wind in crisp delight.
Those thoughtful walks around streets that i have never before seen.

Ah. That.
The shimmering of sensations as a sweat away to bring back myself.
The tears of loved ones, long lost and still here.
The beauty of the noise of the breaks on my vehicle.

Ah. That.
In the morning when i rise, again with you prominent in my mind.
In the leaves of the trees that you left behind.
In the pursuit of ever enduring pleasure.

Ah. That.
Terror rises when you sit and your scent is close.
Terror falls when you look me in my eyes.
Terror is everthing and everywhere without you,
and with you.