(repost for Georgia).

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I miss you.

I thought of you today

when we were at the beach,

our holiday coming to an end,

my pensivity forming the only clouds in the sky.

The colours beneath horizon

like new creation

taking my spirit by the hand

and joining yours.

Well, except,

goldfish don’t have hands.

But if you did,

I know you would have held mine.

And how you were so patient

the way I kept mispronouncing your name,

just because I couldn’t figure out

what accent suited you best.

But I never thought

I would miss you so much.

Cerulean.