One more time she opens her instagram,
Their moments are still fleeting.
She drowns her self deep in her eyes,
…So deep that leads her into oblivion of a lake
And mutters her name with the intense rave,
‘Nila…’
Her name burns like that raw rum sticking in her throat,
Hears the sound of her earrings,
Feels the cold breeze that passes her hair carrying fragrance
Senses the warmth of her fingers that goes within her
Denying every phenomenon.
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