Some footprints are
Too poetic to be washed away.
Such things.
A bulwark against my reasons-
Enticed in me by the grasp of memories,
Bolstered by these unending longings,
Carried forward by songs and
Reminded by the caress of winds.
Sometimes I wish for
An adamant surge come along,
Give some reasons and
Wash all this limerence away.
Yet!
A part of me that's used to them,
keeps asking me,
Still,
You don't wanna miss the poetry.
Do you?
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