through the songs that were sung under the trees
and falling leaves
and something beautiful
ive been waiting for this
this tiny moment.
and it has not disappointed.
i keep telling people that despite the way i feel, there is no meaning behind the mask
and the longing, the longing, the longing, how i have longed for that
that idea which the palm tree will not register. the oriental rug is starting to tear
i am asking all the wrong questions
and with such hope
such reserve
'i would die for you'
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