Like a child's stargazing at brown cookies, sparkling with snowy sugars, through the magical looking glass of a jar. Some evenings, more often these days, he craves for intimacy, and comfort, in the voice and by the side of a familiar someone.
The couples on the street cuddle with whispery sweetness, and he imagines the warmth, the love tingling the skin. The ferocious wind beats a crestfallen figure, his eyes averting, refusing defeat.
P.S.: The eyes are like a looking glass, mirroring the heart's desires.
3 comments:
ay... u yearning for love ah?
In defeat, I'm shrouded in shame.
So allow me to explain
For like passing rain,
the weather will change.
ah huh...
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