one day

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i'd forget about your eyes
when the sun set below the earth
and the birds stopped singing
i'd barely remember the way you spoke
and how each letter was a symphony
and each sentence was poetry
i wouldn't remember your name
or how i carved each letter
into many things
i'm waiting for the day
where my brain stops revolving
around my heart
and i get a mind of my own

call her bonesDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora