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Ayn
Poems
Feb 2020
Whisped Away
Lips brush softly
As a passing breeze
Carries a feather.
She’s leaving again,
But not forever.
A sudden silent hit
Comes to greet me
When I least expect it.
The wind swallows us
In her eternal grace,
So I try in haste
To be her home base.
Why do I keep writing love fantasies about the wind? Welp, they’re fun to write.
#wind
#love
Written by
Ayn
20/M/Wherever I May Roam
(20/M/Wherever I May Roam)
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