the contour of your brow was made for me,
for me to press against my lips as I breathed your scent.
when memories of us surface, I must willfully forgive.
but sometimes I'm lost in one of those pure moments -
and it overtakes my senses
and no time has passed
and I feel your skin
and smell your hair
and feel the yawning space in my chest where my love was so sweet it was cliché
Mar 23, 2012
Mar 23, 2012 at 2:24 AM UTC
the contour of your brow was made for me,
for me to press against my lips as I breathed your scent.
when memories of us surface, I must willfully forgive.
but sometimes I'm lost in one of those pure moments -
and it overtakes my senses
and no time has passed
and I feel your skin
and smell your hair
and feel the yawning space in my chest where my love was so sweet it was cliché
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