…Facet free -I- Style, my luv…

Its all I’ve dreamed of having,
In holding

Where Will, we be tomorrow.
to save me from,
Controlling.

Venison’s dear, isn’t it;
Sometimes I just wander.
Why does my har-t mix for you
& name You, like a blunder–

Your style and grace… Are blunderbus
With eys that start me spinning.

My heart, dear lamb…

It’s compramised,

I adore your Turtle-doves.
Above, below; to feel your flow
Even when I’mlost, your winning

I’d name my poems all over again…
To keep you from complaining

But I’ll only know the purest snow–
When I’ve finally s-topped raining.
–Honestly, you’re exausting ❤

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