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Feb 2016
We all have these moments.
Sleepless at night.
Staring at a ceiling.
Waiting for the light in our head to go out.
As I lay beneath the darkness of my ceiling.
I can only remember the softness of her skin.
The way she breaths in her sleep.
The tender parfume she has.
It is not the lonelines keeping me awake.
It is the lack of comfort I get from her.
That is what I miss in these dark cold nights.
Written by
Jelle Lerutte  Oudenaarde
(Oudenaarde)   
321
   Clown
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