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 Aug 23 Herena Rosas
Triste
Your name hasn’t touched my lips
In a while
I wonder if it will hurt
My tongue
Or bring the butterflies
To life
Early in the morning,
Laying in bed,
light washing over me,
thoughts floating in my head.

Wondering what it’d be like,
Doubt seeps like morning glow.
What could I say to him?
What might he never know?

- Lost in Translation

— The End —