The nights were awful and too dark, to see you. The days were terrible and too hot, to touch you. Your mouth was too quiet, to kiss you. Your hair was too fragile, to caress. But I was really in love with you. All I miss right now is the scent of your love. Once you wanted to give it to me, and I rejected it.
There were some really good things. The intense smell of your lips. The huge landscape of your neckline. The beauty of your hair dangling between my hands. The mystery inside your feisty honey eyes when I looked at you. Despite I was really in love with you, I couldn't stop thinking that you were younger than me.
I hope to resign myself soon. I can't stop listening Fiona Apple.
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