The city where I loved the most
Where ardency fills my eyes as I gaze upon the dimmed lanterns
And light flickers continuously on the old arbor
Where my lack of courage expands
When your smile enters the room
And time demands a plan
But no roads taken
Nor plans in time
Like old books on shelves
As love and lust occur
We are the young lovers our older selves
will somehow remind us of who we were
And away we happened. We felt, we loved, we were.
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