Poetry

The morning after

Sun kissed skin,

your eyes reveal

the secrets

of the summer

we sun bathed

under a Morula tree.

Reminiscing on

when we were young.

Tongue tied,

sun dried

fruits

forbidden,

we ate

hidden

under the shade

where only our shadows

became one

far away from eyes

that judge

we became one.

Fear left

it felt right

to know each other

when dawn risen

and night

was no more.

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