Pictures painted with water. Poetry breathed between kisses. Too beautiful to last.

“Time, Vick said, "is what we don't have.”

“Who knows why that man planted those fields? Perhaps he knew we’d need the flow…”

“Porque al final no siempre puedes elegir que conservar. Solo puedes elegir como…”

“Then Xander whispers, "Cassia... if we could choose, would you ever have chosen…”