in that frame corner, i've watched the, probably, gentlest aura you can ever exude while my lips flaunt a smile brighter than the sun. for even my eyes were sparkling with immense joy, and how they lit up more when i reached for you. and you pulled me gently towards the black shirt that was hugging your torso, but the frame—no matter how perfect the picture it holds—is nothing but a mere frame. it limits the beauty and locks up the romance inside. yeah, the two of us there have never left the frame or touched reality. what a waste.
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