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“Tell me, what is love? Is that a body that wears frayed clothes, a mouth that eats only morsels, but senses moon in the soul when the world goes to sleep, the one who makes love letters of memories left, the one who fills the eyes with stars?” — Jayita Bhattacharjee
Tell me, what is love?
Is that a body that wears frayed clothes, a mouth that eats only morsels, but senses moon in the soul when the world goes to sleep, the one who makes love letters of memories left, the one who fills the eyes with stars?