You smelled like bourbon today.
I still long for the old musky scent,
Your neck used to reek of each day.

Your skin felt oddly smooth today.
Gone was the funny stubble,
That pricked my tired face each day.

Your eyes glows a subtle shade of emerald today.
How I miss the hazel pair,
You used to look me at each day.

With you grabbing my wrist
and I, spilling my wine.

With you kissing my cheek
and I, letting out a little sigh.

In those moments I realize
He’s not you, but you are mine.