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Bisou Bisou

a packed bag (or semi packed, if we consider the perfumes on the desk) going to sleep in a different room— going to sleep in a different country— my eyelids won’t close, yet. buzzing sounds through my thumbs. the cat won’t understand, there is static in his brain. I understand, though. I will never see her again.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 12/27/2023 7:45:00 AM
This is a beautiful poem. According to me it talks about the hardships one experiences after an end of a relationship. Keep up the good work!!
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Book: Shattered Sighs