Letter(2)

my dear
village as usual
this time of year
is beautiful

everything around is
alive and smells

My aunts are caring
maybe even too much

steamy nights
unbearable

You left your smell on the pillow
your breath on my neck
whispers

when I stretch my arms
to hold you
I catch only air

the end of the summer so far
maybe I will sleep days
so I could survive the nights

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