I am stained with your colour;
Royal purple and blinding white.
I am smothered by your scent;
Marlboro cigarettes and cheap alcohol.
I am lost in your words;
Mellifluous syllables and sage proverbs.

You must be a sorcerer, for I have been bewitched.
You roam through my mind, casting hexes as you go;
I see you walk with that charming little gait of yours.
The memory of your face is hypnotising, infatuating;
Perhaps I have been cursed, but I hope this necromancy lasts forever.