sexta-feira, 28 de fevereiro de 2025

Miss you, Miss M

Her black hair flows, a midnight path,

Moonlit skin, a bright moonbeam.

We melt into the summer of bodies,

Sweat and whispers, fire and kiss.


I still feel your arm around me,

Like I'm still on top of you in bed.


More than the touch, I miss your voice,

your smell enchanted me

Night conversations, our love, our gaze.

Now the city is cold and empty—

And you're not here.

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