liyo
reverie
it was like sipping your daily cup of tea by the shore
one early morning
when everything seems to be so pure
toes underneath the sands
sleeping with empty shells
of which
dreams are forgotten
yet its hollowness brings
a myriad of tales
tales of longing
of whispers of secret adoration
lingering
swimming
never fading
an empty cup,
a revelation
of momentum of snippets
yellowing pages of bygone days
clawing into
the dark corners of reverie.
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