Ask me

Ask me anything.
She said, or maybe it was me who said it.
Ask me anything, whatever is it you wish to know.
But I did want to know.
I want to know if he loves me or if he likes me or if he thinks of me at all.
Would it help to know?
Thinking about you, thinking about him, thinking and thinking and dreaming.
Dreaming with the sun and the sand and the warm wind from the south.
South I shall go, tomorrow or maybe never.
Never to find, always to seek, what I’m looking for. What I’m looking for?
I’m looking for an answer, and looking for an end, I’m looking in the wrong places?
A place in my haert for him.
For him, for you.
I love you?
I like you?
What is it, in the end . . .


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