Once it will not be you not me and we will be. When breathing would be breathing and the pulse of strokes will become even with clock sound. When the thread desires weave the net spider threads and the night with a lantern of light sinks the calm of the stars. I will fall asleep peacefully cuddled in you on the sheet fragrant memories of the night.
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Posted: Aug 2019
About this poem:
I am very sorry for the mistakes but I still have a lot of problems with my English expression:).
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