A poem about young love, and how it’s only as real as you make it.

You’d call it puppy love;
you’d say it was all in our heads.
But you know what?
We’re wide awake sexting,
when we “should be in bed”

our hearts, for long days
have left them
weak and fatigued
from trying
to function
whilst the
other is
so far

Sometimes even a mile lies between us!

But when we come together (no matter the place)
we don’t pay attention to time
or space
as we intertwine:
ruling eachother’s hearts and heads.
But not yet beds.

But we’re close.

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