“I wrote a poem on your back as we lay on our stomachswatching the moon rise above the sea.You told
“I wrote a poem on your back as we lay on our stomachswatching the moon rise above the sea.You told me you loved the way my fingers traced constellationsdown your spine,that you never wanted meto stop connecting the starsbetween your bones.“What are you writing,”you asked,“don’t let it end.”I’m writing to my loneliness.I thought.“I’m writing to you,” I said.I’ll never stop.— Pavana पवन -- source link
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