Once every moonlight, after the phone rang in the middle of the dark, I'd always found myself asking to the mirror, "What are we?" Your laugh over the calls, our deep darkest secrets we shared along the jokes, all my poems that rhymed with your name. It is the silence that comes, until the phone will ring in another moonlights, just to find myself drowning. In questions that you'll never received. In answers that I'll never get.
// in silence where I'm loving you.
17.08.25; 09.20pm
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