I can't recollect the utmost dream I had of you.
I can't recollect the utmost hunger that engrossed my macrocosm for you.
I can't recollect the utmost deficiency I felt because of you- your presence and absence alike.
But to this day the ambiance of your embrace lingers exhaustively, like a tentative worry stirred from a terminal illness. You, in fact, are very much so a malady.. (although you've always been an incongruous remedy of some sort as well).
You still leave me bemused, why is that?
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