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wanderlust


walking down the streets

of an unknown city.

watching the stars dance when the sun rises,

singing the songs of a foreign language,

smiling at strangers

cafe-owners

tourists

children,

at your reflection every time you pass a window.

never stopping to look back

even if you're breathless; or home-sick

because as long as you’re moving,

everything is alright. everything is

beautiful, everything is just the way it’s supposed to be.

drinking hot cocoa from your hand but

feeling the warmth in your heart,

eating ice cream in your plate, but

wishing you could freeze time.

you are

living:

every breathe, every sunset, every smile, every laughter.

you are

making memories

when you walk down the streets of an unknown city,

and randomly turn around the corner

and open your heart to a paradise...

if home is where your heart is

then isn’t every lane home.

tell me you know

your flight is about to leave,

but still, you make these

promises

to your heart

that one day you will walk

down these streets again.

and watch these stars dance,

and perhaps even dance with them.


i ask you:

if this is lust, then what is love?

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