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curious

My curiosity, killed her trust,
wanting to know more,
made a fool of myself,
unable to control that anxiety.

the things she does,
before she eats, before she sleeps,
what is it she does,
i just gotta know.

what time is it?
as she sips her coffee,
as she plugs her earphones,
as she goes out to work.

the moment she bite her nails,
she lets her hair down,
and the music she listens,
curious i am to be.

where is she from?
how she dresses her thoughts,
her experiences before me,
i would want to know.

her favourite colour,
how much she adores spicy food,
her passion and dreams,
to me i keep dearly as memories.

how common our thoughts,
days when even our shirt matches,
how frequent our eyes may lock,
just staring at each other, plainly.

i can't help to notice...yet not all is noticeable...(like that pimple)...

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