Eu, Tu, Poate noi.

Cand mi-am lipit buzele de pielea ta moale am crezut ca o sa-mi pierd mintile. Dar nu mi le-am pierdut. Chiar daca le-as fi pierdut sunt aproape sigura ca mi le-ai fi dat inapoi cu vreo fraza rece, obosita, impinsa cu forta printre dintii tai.

Ale tale, ale tale sunt toate, numai eu nu sunt a ta, si tu nu esti al meu.

"Call you me fair? that fair again unsay.
Demetrius loves your fair: O happy fair!
Your eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet air
More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear,
When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
Sickness is catching: O, were favour so,
Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I'd give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look, and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart."

Si la urma urmei nici macar nu te iubesc. Dar cat as vrea sa ma iubesti.