Now that you're gone, you won't remember.
Or maybe you will, you always do.
You are the definition of love; you don't mean that narcissistically,
you mean to direct it more so towards your inability to end,
your trailing of thought, your depth of longing, your time spent alone, away from her.
Your want of return.
Those eyes.
I'm not looking for anything,
I'm just looking for something to find.
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