THE SLIT OF A POEM
I know that the land cannot be cleaned no matter how much it's swept. It must be because of the attachment, where we faced each other with smiling faces among the tempting blue forests. Although it was full of brilliance, hidden within was despair and struggle. Enduring the sadness with composure, growing a desire through perseverance, fantasizing about the dawn of a certain day, hoping to finally reach the doorstep. You make love to the woman you love, and you feel like you've returned to your hometown.
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