I yearned for you as a lover would.
To hear and touch, and to continue the past.
Each time we talk I would be reminded,
of the nights and times we shared.
My lover, you were not the one.
A replica, to feel what I had once.
To taste, what touched my lips before.
To dwell in this false affection.
Yet, each days, filled of longing.
To see your face, and laugh.
My lover, you once, and never be him.
And I wished too, you'd find yours.
