Amame

To be loved
To the point of no return.
The sun to burn
Without the chance to
Scorch a love in past tense.
Listen, I believe you…
My arms would
Curl around for miles
And endless times.
Bring your baggage
And soul in the nude
To cover the longitude.
Life’s at our latitude
Leave behind the darts.
Twirl me around
In drunken awareness,
The flowing sound
Of fearlessness
Carries over the past,
Life happens fast.

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