Just a number that tells a lot
A number that sounds like
"youth passion love"
I see him so often that I think
He is living in my iris
And even if I lost my sight
I'd still get a glimpse of him

Our red thread has started to compress my pinky finger
Our pinkies finger, that have lived through so many kisses, promises, lies and fights
He always seemed to wonder
« What it was like to be alone »
To be without
His other half, his partner, his aurius

But I left
And suddenly every song was singing about him
My red ***** was going crazy with the lack of him
Th warmth of your touch was so consuming
That I felt naked when you left the room

I was shivering from the cold you left
My stubble raise as a barrier
In order to protect from your
Toxicity, obsession, mischief

But in the end me, and my pinky
Are too weak against you