Mon amour, in this room I am haunted by my cologne, that you stole and made your own; it lingers, like these feelings of you alone.
My hands ruffle the sheets; nails and fingers birth wrinkles where they meet. Though the memories of your locks between my fingers... to these I retreat; to these feelings, I fall asleep.
Pray return to my embrace, and end this eternal vigil with grace. Pray return to my arms, sound and safe; for each breath breathed without you here, is a waste.
Jan 23, 2021
Jan 23, 2021 at 7:01 PM UTC
Mon amour, in this room I am haunted by my cologne, that you stole and made your own; it lingers, like these feelings of you alone.
My hands ruffle the sheets; nails and fingers birth wrinkles where they meet. Though the memories of your locks between my fingers... to these I retreat; to these feelings, I fall asleep.
Pray return to my embrace, and end this eternal vigil with grace. Pray return to my arms, sound and safe; for each breath breathed without you here, is a waste.