miss you

I threw myself in the bottom of my stomach
to catch butterflies with the color of your eyes

I've been waiting on you in a visual aid sonnet
with an intense pretext of my emotion in yours

There's no interlude. Desires have the potency
to reconnect me to passion sound's sparks
to not miss you


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anytime of the year

lovely

you can't run

good for me

face à face

tighten up

satisfaction guaranteed

tell me something beautiful, she said, — (∂ + m) ψ

give me a reason

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