Like a child's fading first fever,
our love has slipped away.
Our entwined fingers are becoming unraveled,
as if they are reciting their small farewells.
I woke up, scattered the dream's flowers,
even sorrow stains quietly.
Murmurs, till my heart is full,
crippling me.
My heart is the one that can't move on,
the we who were in there, were smiling.
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