I see you weaving our memories in your hand, my Hinata

and i recall each thread of the past.

Our meetng under the old oak tree

next to the old park bench

at the old high school

Those eyes, they see nothing

Brown eyes turned grey from cloudy days above her

chaos formed in those misty eyes

The future becomes uncertain, as threads get longer

and our joined hearts intertwine

she knits under a crystal moon 

in her dark eyes, firefly lights dancing

in a peaceful meadow

filled with old oak trees

and old picket fences

and an old country home.

Keep adding new threads of history Tionna!