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Winged desires take flight for the crimson skies, As we toy with the strings of our hearts. Fingers slide across my bare back, Like wind that gently glides over still waters. And as the skies mellow into a darker hue, Under a blanket of stars, we rise and fall, Breathless and alive. Somewhere written along the fading horizon, Is poetry that we created, You and I. Who knew that love could be chaotic. Yet we danced in perfect synchrony.
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Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
Creating poetry
Winged desires take flight for the crimson skies, As we toy with the strings of our hearts. Fingers slide across my bare back, Like wind that gently glides over still waters. And as the skies mellow into a darker hue, Under a blanket of stars, we rise and fall, Breathless and alive. Somewhere written along the fading horizon, Is poetry that we created, You and I. Who knew that love could be chaotic. Yet we danced in perfect synchrony.
©Meenu Syriac
meenu-madhavacheril
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Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
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