In the conservatory with the windows open wide I can still smell your pipe smoke.
I walk past and feel your oilskins' brush my hand.
I found some snippets of jet black hair left in my jewellery tray.
Your crash helmet sits on the hallway table.
I swear it wasn't there yesterday.
A visiting spirit playing games with my memory.
I'm guessing that's all it can be.
Or maybe I haven't accepted you're gone.
Love lingering too long.
(C) LIVVI
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 6:26 AM UTC
In the conservatory with the windows open wide I can still smell your pipe smoke.
I walk past and feel your oilskins' brush my hand.
I found some snippets of jet black hair left in my jewellery tray.
Your crash helmet sits on the hallway table.
I swear it wasn't there yesterday.
A visiting spirit playing games with my memory.
I'm guessing that's all it can be.
Or maybe I haven't accepted you're gone.
Love lingering too long.
(C) LIVVI
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