Why is there nothing beautiful left to miss anymore ?
Why I not miss a darn thing ?
A first kiss, a very first clashing of fingers, the brushing murmur of leaves and dry pages in my throat, incidents of rib battering laughter gushing out of our mouths like sinful fountains giving us life when the sadness pours out like acid, no place for it inside our bodies.
Why do I not miss loving you, or when you once loved me back ?
Why do I not remember the pain of that ?
I am sure... Surely don't miss !!!
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