Love, as it happens,
Is not not declared by a thunders strike
But suggested on a whisper
Nor is it bound in its possession
but through those thimbled sips
And parting glances
as you head toward the door
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 1:42 PM UTC
Love, as it happens,
Is not not declared by a thunders strike
But suggested on a whisper
Nor is it bound in its possession
but through those thimbled sips
And parting glances
as you head toward the door
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