When I went to propose
my orb of sky on feb 14,
I glimpsed 40 more stars
twinkling brighter than
moon in pride.
When my orb was
welcoming those stars.
Blossoms, I held, heard
the whispers of the breeze,
weeping before ocean
and gifting moist
to each eyes
with its melancholic air.
Flowers returned back to
my land before I arrived
to meet its fellow blossoms
refusing to spread its fragrance.
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