And So I Long

Your fragnance was that of an ephemeral mist

and so one taste won't ever suffice

One touch would always be miles away from satisfaction

I dig my own grave, as I let you in,

let you envelope me

With those cunning arms

I know I might be

Composing medleys of hyperbole

as poems would always end up rhetorically

And so I long for you

Like rain amidst the dunes of Sahara

Or a waltz with the northern Aurora

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