Mirror of time. Avid passer-by.

 Tell me about your love in your memories. Reached. In pieces. In the pond where you look at the pebbles of tomorrow. Make me one I know. A little bit of you: from each part of the cold that makes me harshly inconsistent. Mirror of time. Avid passer-by. For the routes of the meat. Randomly released from the fluids in the desert of being.