I don’t know you but I want to…

The undone characteristics of the wallowing instance filled with a caress of desire
Moulded in a rainy lavender evening melted in an orange dusk
The crevices of the light cocoon that moment and throw out any trace of a second moment

The calender is turning and I haven’t glimpsed you since then
There is no explicit pain because I know not what I have missed

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