Do butterflies tickle?
Or just an allergic reaction to moments,
Containing you?
Coughing up laughs,
And unwanted smiles
Whom rip through their sewn on counterparts.
You’ve disrobed my soul
From the pain it was cocooned within.
It sprouts from a concrete garden
Past the withered petals that incarcerated hope
Watered by droplets of infatuation;
Condensation of a melting heart
That your light has glistened within
Unknown to you;
An anonymous love story
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