I had a few notes in my phone that I had hoped to turn into something but they seem to be just sitting there rotting away for months until I remember they’re there, only to forget about them again. So I thought I’d throw them out there as an end of the night addition. With an hour left on my clock until tomorrow comes, one last set of words to ease the fire’s heat.
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I’ve never been in love,
but I’ve smelled its sweet scent.
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Who better to judge what love is;
The man in the midst of its throws,
or the one whose never been?