At least he smiles.

He still smiles. (Not a poem #1)

Thank goodness for the world that I cannot love you. Otherwise, what do you do when you fall in love with your brother or with your best friend. You die, or you suffocate yourself and lie. It’s a blunder.

But not really, you die, only metaphorically. Which is worse.

And then you meet them, the ones you loved, love,…… and end up with improper goodbyes, empty conversations and the love decays, except not really, because, he, still smiles. And you fall in love again. Except not really.
Not this time.



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