One word from your lips is enough to cause this wild tempest inside my soul. It’s always unexpected, the blizzard; & yet when my mind dances with the smell of your skin, I realise that there couldn’t have been any other reason for it.
The shards of glass shattered on the floor mature into satiny snow, its beauty iridescent in the sun’s rays, as if blushing with sweet agony from the recognition it is receiving, not realising its imminent end.
My days seem insipid compared to yours, and I wonder what I could offer that you don’t already have.
But you look at me like I’m the most enticing element in your life, like a poem entangled in allegorical statements, and you, a lover of the balladry, devoted to solve all my mysteries.


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