What is it?
It’s neither a run, nor is it a fall.
But I can hear it, it can be a call.
Like the slow rain outside, it is foggy but consistent
Like the dampness smelt inside, it is a plain feeling.
Is it missing you tonight or just a deception of my heart,
Rise of love or just a demand of my thought.
Naming of this feeling, should I await.
Or just hug it tonight, and leave the rest to fate.
Just want to see you, will you wait?
Dedicated to:
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