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Jul 2016
Did I ever tell you about my favourite place?
By day it's ok, but the trace is erased of a night spent together,
Just some bent, dented heather,
It's idyllic, stay a minute, to an hour, then forever.

It's a hilltop dotted with forests and blotches
of discarded lockets, pick-pocketed wallets,
Snapped straps and their watches and trees carved with notches,
A deposit for problems where noise is just nonsense.

A dirt track on the side of the hill snakes like an ivy vine,
Through thick bushes, but I know it by heart, so I'll be fine,
Push the leaves aside and peek behind, over river, nearly time,
Reach the clearing, feast your eyes, silence gives no eerie vibe.

It overlooks the town, and looking down you've never felt so tall and mighty,
But staring up at there's too much, you'll never feel so small and tiny.


It's four in the morning, the sunrise is dawning,
The only tire here involves both of you yawning.
The sky comes alight, covered like white bug bites,
Illuminating the two amazing souls joined underneath.

It's my idea of eden and your hearts will start to beat in tune,
So weave a braid of fingers, feel the heat, let them feel it too,
Take it slow, or make it so you're only his or only hers,
Isolated yet connected, it's my favourite place on a lonely earth.
Written by
TW  19/M/England
(19/M/England)   
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