Can you hear my mind through the silence in-between the songs? Can you hear the poems in the back of my head, or the love my synapses sing whenever I turn to look at you? Do my fingers speak of how they would stroke your hair and glide along your cheekbone? Do my eyes project onto yours the same images I see? Images of us on our backs, holding hands, looking out for falling stars.
Do my lips speak of the happiness they find on yours?
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