I loved you, I did. I believe I even sold myself a bit: on your love, my lust, your hair and just the way we stood there. How the air smelled of you, the way your shirt was cursed with blues. The way we danced by the ocean in front your mini-garden. The white fence, your loveliness and the heavenly kisses. It’ll always be the sheets, lying beside, holding your arm and kissing your hair in a loving stride.

drafts on your skinwords of your necki’m spinning in heavencaressing in hellwe’re dancing as ifwe're the only oneshere

To feel everything, yet nothing at all. That is the utmost beautiful feeling.

And I touch. Not because I want to feel, but because I’m looking to see if this is real.

Losing someone doesn’t scare me. Death doesn’t scare me. What scares me is the inability to no longer feel the touch of the one you love.

He grabbed my hand and that’s when I felt my heart beat for the very first time.

I touched your tips and it felt like this was it.