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My Moonlight Sinatra
I want to find the words, to tell you that I like you. But I don’t know how. I want to find the words to tell you that you’re beautiful. But again that’s too hard for me to do. All I have in this life are my words, and even then. They’re betraying me for you. They hold me down, and fill my lungs with coal. All to keep me quite so I don’t tell you.
I can only speak in riddles around you. You’re spring for me as I am an ungrown flower. You are the earth to me, as I am a moon. My whole world revolves around you. And when you are the moon, I am the sea. Always at your beck and call. Without relation to me, you are a diamond. A white rose, beautiful but tragic. You’re piano cords in the Moonlight Sinatra. Momently I’m pondering how to word this. Pondering how I should tell you. You’re only a seat away. But it’s too difficult, so I won’t. I just wish I would.
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