Theres an old cabin at the edge of the ocean, where salt and the summer sun are trapped in it's aging wood. Small peices of the past still linger within it's walls. Like ripples leading us through worm holes, and back into thier arms. The scent of purfume softly misted within the passing breeze, will feel like its stopped the world around you.

As you close your eyes in the moment, you could still feel the sensation of their warm lips grazing yours. The unforgettable feeling of thier body heat dancing around you. The oils from the fingertips, pressed firmly against your jaw line.

Thier essence slowly fading, but never quite gone.