A day, marked in my calendar.
Anticipated, waited, dreamt of.
It had to be the day,
when your arms and hugs
were my only clothes
your kisses was the only thing
I eat.
My hands had to be resting
on your hips
as I try to reach your heart
with my words,
whispered in the air…
It’s the only day
of a painful reminder,
that the only thing
that makes me dizzy to the core
is not your scent,
but cheap red wine
inside a glass
I cracked this morning.

– Chatty Owl –

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