What a beautiful imageIt would be portrayedFor posterityOn a promenadeFor time indefiniteWith hands claspedSharing the momentTalkingOr in silenceJust walking. When the sighsThe heartbeatsAnd whispersAre the only symphonyThat standsBetween the explosionOf the wavesWhen the sea rantsAnd the sentimental sphereOf two Siamese soulsIn their parallel universe. O.