To the one I loved, sometimes a little, sometimes equal to depths unknown-
I carry you in my purse, and I often wonder why I liked to collect people instead of diamonds that shine brighter than all of you.
The postcards I sent with little rose petals stuck on them, did you throw those out?
I wonder if you still forget where you placed the wallet or your keys.
Most days I imagine your voice floating through the air and kissing my skin, and in that moment- I am the happiest.
I try to imagine your lips, the taste of it.
How every touch of your skin made my body burn like wildfire-
Late night muse, late night desires.
And then I lose you,
much like how the night loses it's stars to the blue of the dawn every day.
...I never liked Blue.
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 4:14 PM UTC
To the one I loved, sometimes a little, sometimes equal to depths unknown-
I carry you in my purse, and I often wonder why I liked to collect people instead of diamonds that shine brighter than all of you.
The postcards I sent with little rose petals stuck on them, did you throw those out?
I wonder if you still forget where you placed the wallet or your keys.
Most days I imagine your voice floating through the air and kissing my skin, and in that moment- I am the happiest.
I try to imagine your lips, the taste of it.
How every touch of your skin made my body burn like wildfire-
Late night muse, late night desires.
And then I lose you,
much like how the night loses it's stars to the blue of the dawn every day.
...I never liked Blue.