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Portuguese

  • areyoustillbloggin
  • Dec 20, 2023
  • 1 min read

Updated: Dec 21, 2023

It was Portuguese, with a soft melody. It wasn't jazz, but not far from it. It was soft. Not as soft her skin against his when she gave him a hug. Touch of their necks, accidental, but something that woke a memory, right away. He needed another one, it wasn't enough. It never is, the need is constant. When she's not around even for 1 moment, he isn't complete. No melody can calm the storm inside him when she's gone. There really isn't sunshine without her.

 
 
 

2 Comments


Guest
Dec 21, 2023

Do you ever hang out with someone for hours and hours, and still miss them when they leave?

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Guest
Dec 20, 2023

Even when she is in bed her thoughts rush to him, her immortal beloved, now and then joyfully, then again sadly, waiting to know whether Fate will hear their prayer.

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