I don’t want this love,
The love of modern days.
Where we write poetries about people but not the souls who complete us.
Where I crave love even when I bury my head in someone’s chest.
I see myself lost in the ocean of known faces.

I want your words – the voices inside your head,
The demons which never leave you – I want that.
I want you to feel the rush in your blood when I envelop you in my arms.
Tell me, you want that too?
Because when i look at you – my nomadic soul feels that you are the home it seeks and yet,
I can walk miles just to find your empty soul which knows nothing about my words.

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Let me turn your world into a magical place, will you?
Because for me paradise is nothing but your arms,
I covet to stay in them every day.
And your warmth lingers on my skin when you leave me.
Love is a poetic place for me and you, my muse – i want to create poetry out of your every breath, every touch, your every whispers.

Haunt me, and wreck my soul.
But stay here.
Stay on my head like a nightmare who dresses like a daydream.
Someone who makes me smile.

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I am sorry if I demand too much?
But I don’t want this modern meaningless love where you don’t know how to love.

I want the evenings when your shattered nomadic soul wanders around.
I want you to rest on my shoulder,
I want you to feel peace in me – in someone who has nothing to offer you.
I desire this love which is not only about mortal bodies.

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Which you may not find in modern dating apps,
Which you may not find on your right desk in your office.
Where somebody leaves a coffee cup to cure your tired body.
Which you may not find in my words or actions.
But then, how can I tell you that my soul needs love as much as your soul does?

I know, this kind of love seems like a fantasy to the people who just scroll down but never write a love letter.
Who just share songs but never sing for one.

I am too tired as you, for this world.
We are just two lunatics who are searching for soulmates in this modern world.