Love in a different decade, two to be exact. If it were only days, maybe we can make the pact.
Heart and mind are orchards apart. Words and emotions have bruised the heart.
We bore the sweetest fruit. More precious than any black bird’s loot.
In the next world, I pray we are a pair of pears pollinated by the same breeze. If not picked by the same hand, At least I would relive life’s biggest tease.
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