Poetry

Far from the reality if I ever met you,
No revelation of You happen here.
A few minutes, Hours, or Days,
The tryst shouldn’t be of this number.
The smile of meeting for many lives,
That’s all need to be revealed over and over.

And so I count not the stars in the dark,
As moon there is to overshadow them.
Far the number of days I am away,
I count hugs We missed all these days.

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Distance

Aside

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