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Nostalgia
May 9, 2016
The soft press of your sweet lips on my cheek
Like a light drizzle on your windshield in April,
It hums and drums and doesn’t stop
The sharp sting of regret, yours not mine
I hope anyway
The bittersweet realization that
What is, is
Finalized.
That is what we are now
Two scattered souls, in a scattered world
It’s been two months now, since I’ve heard your voice
Maybe it’s for the best
Finality.
© Anonymous
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