She left traces of herself
in the air.
The oil she dabbed on her wrists
smelt of wind through trees.
And sometimes when I inhale,
I can breathe her back in
until I can’t hold it anymore
and let her go.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 6:32 AM UTC
She left traces of herself
in the air.
The oil she dabbed on her wrists
smelt of wind through trees.
And sometimes when I inhale,
I can breathe her back in
until I can’t hold it anymore
and let her go.
