You could plant some joy across my face, and some love in my heart. You could feel the scars underneath my skin with your lips, with your hands in my hair. You could slip your hands into mine and we could sway to the gentle wind of the night. We could carry an endless love together, but we would not. So here I am, in the middle of the night, swaying alone with a list of what-ifs, could-haves, and would-haves.
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