She was my first crush.
I liked her nose-ring.
I liked her principles.
She stood out in a sea of faces.
I still remember that she wore red.
We had one date.
She was a happy girl.
She liked colors.
She liked slow walks.
She wrote a poem for me.
I wrote a song for her.
I owe her a date.
She knows about all the others.
She knows about me.
She feels like home.
4 comments :
Love the title.
And the poem, of course.
quoting you from last night "At the end of the day, you go where it feels like home"
..quaint, nostalgic sound. Nice.
:) Thank you for this.
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