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Finding you

I want to find you. Just here and there, like the moments we never had. I want to feel you, fresh as the air of the season, coming and going away. I want to see you blooming while you smile, drinking tea and asking for the next wine.
I want to find you when you're looking at yourself, thinking you're not fit enough, denying to the mirror you're the most perfect woman ever existed. I want to feel your hair smelling like roses, long and bright, straight, soft and crazy like moments you have.
I want to find you in a casual way, buying flowers, eating bread. I want to touch the long of your legs, while you're describing the future and building emotions we know won't be there.
I want to see your radiant skin, those horrible jeans, the non-sense messages of your shirts.  I want to find the sun in your arms, reflecting the light with those golden hairs. I want to see your dark moments, also the brilliant ones. I want to see this light that makes me crazy to see you one more time.
I want to find you, and I don't know where you are.

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