Counting the months,
But I know they are but days
In wait of your presence,
Turning thoughts to years
Of which there will be many,
Ours, these memories forming
In my head, dancing, with a wiggle,
As you do in your mother’s belly.
Counting the months,
But I know they are but days
In wait of your presence,
Turning thoughts to years
Of which there will be many,
Ours, these memories forming
In my head, dancing, with a wiggle,
As you do in your mother’s belly.
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