The heart mumbles with love.
She keeps making silence with modesty
And the heart is delirious.
And the heart is muttered with the
vocabulary of love,
and dimension.
She hits a palm by the palm once and once,
It's like she's clapping for the wind,
She awakens tired heart dreams,
She takes dreams.
Among the rubble of asceticism,
So dreams can rise.
And it's accompanied by fancy clouds.
She keeps tinging silence with modesty,
At moments of stillness,
Love shakes silence,
and revolts
abdullah albanin
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