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When were the stars
not a fragment of your smiles?
When was your laughter
not a part of your wiles?
When did your eyes
not contain all of the skies?
When didn’t your frown
turn the heavens down?
When didn’t your cheeks
paralyze me for weeks?
When didn’t your hair
do justice to the air?
When didn’t the gods
rejoice in glee,
when you let your hair free?
When was I not in love with you
and you, in love with me?
When have I not seen you on the moon,
or in the ever-changing skies?
When have I ever stopped considering you
as an angel in disguise?