I like to think that you are here
With your memories and said words that could never be returned
The smell of your mouth that tastes like coffee
The smell of your hands and cigarettes too
I like to think of you
As a mere memory of whom once I thought you'd be
The perfection in form of a man
The creation of the objectified love
The sadness within all of this hallucinating
And the love that was lucid
Your hands a few centimeters from mine
Never touching never mine
Go through your soul but soul mates aren't real
Go through the world but we all have fears