It's the scent of mint on your sweat.
Quite addictive,
The evening is young. And so are we.
Naive and ignorant,
That we must live our lives with faces that are long gone.
Seek to find.
Found, but cannot be held.
YOU ARE READING
I Should've Hugged You The Last Time I Saw You
PoetryWould it make any difference? If we knew that it was the last time we would see each other again?
Fragments
It's the scent of mint on your sweat.
Quite addictive,
The evening is young. And so are we.
Naive and ignorant,
That we must live our lives with faces that are long gone.
Seek to find.
Found, but cannot be held.