Such a long year, since I last tasted your lips,
and over your skin, traced my fingertips.
Such a long year, since that day in your room,
a day you've forgotten, or so I assume.
But a day of perfection, of laughter of smiles,
and of you and your sister, putting my hair in odd styles.
The last day where I pinned, you down on your floor,
the last day spent constantly, closing your door,
the last day I had you all to myself,
before my emotions, I was forced to shelf.
It's a day you've forgotten, just as you should,
but a day I'll remember, as I knew that I would.