𝟖𝟒. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

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To the boy who's always in my dreams,

who brings tingles
and butterflies in idleness,

who makes me bewildered
in morning thoughts,

whose face is as gentle
as his soul—

a face I've known
from our disruptive yesterday.

You became a mark on my void,

a trace from the past that
will never be an ember.

a trace from the past thatwill never be an ember

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