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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