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summer love
It was a first love filled with
daisy-chains and beach days
picnics on his roof, wine glistening
in the moon-lit, starry-eyes
night sky.
Blind paths of destruction
disguised as secret hikes through the
woods and a silent trail of
clothes leading to his bed.
That summer he sailed on
but I cannot forget
the way he looked at me like
I was the only thing he could see.
I have never felt so loved before.
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