One day we will come back here.
To the place that we first met.
And it will be a painful kind of joke
That we thought we could last forever.
Because isn't that what love is?
Or lust or infatuation. Whatever you call it.
Isn't that what it is?
This immortal kind of hope.
I know it's complete. But why do I yearn for more?
ReplyDeleteInteresting you'll say that because I have been feeling the same way; like there is more. I may or may not make it longer sha :)
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