I don't want to think it all over again. Whatever it is that I feel now can just as easily be erased by the touch of every following sunrise as it was given enough courage to come alive on every sun-sweet morning of our yesterdays. I can't promise that I'll be there waiting for you down at the darkest corner of the longest street, just to kiss you silly, just to send myself into coma with the smell of your bare skin, I can't promise (but at the moment, this is all I dream about).
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