Under the moonlit sky where the stars shimmer, I dream of us weaving a garland, a garland of unplucked desires. Passionately, my heart waits on the other side of the river only to feel the shadow of your existence. I can be the shore and you can be the waves coming to and fro; I’ll invariably wait for your touch though you’ve to recede with every movement of yours, leaving an impeccable imprint. Just like the Nightingale, I’ll sing for you our songs of rapture and attain the heights of sublimity. I await here to feel your presence once again.
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