Himani Gandhi (@himanigandhi12) from Mumbai writes a [ thought ] called 'Home?'
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The doggo knows when I’m having a rough (ruff?) day. I was burying my face in the scruff of his neck when I told him he was my favorite pillow. I was taken aback, since that’s what I used to tell D. No matter how much time passes, there are always weird grief moments; little reminders of that loss, as if I could forget.
I don't know how a love poem look like.
People say if I'll ever write a love poem
It will resemble a lot
with the Pacific ocean
for love is vast and so is the ocean.
They say don't trust ocean
for they change with every wave
and then they say don't trust lovers
for they too change with every wave.
And so I don't trust oceans nor do I trust lovers,
for I believe in water not in oceans
for I believe in love not in lovers.