i hold on to the piece of cloth you handed me as i shiver in the cold
i hold it and press it to my heart
my heart pounds so hard as hard as the way i tripped and stumbled upon you
i dont remember everything
but i do remember the feeling
of feeling ethereal and of being weightless
of bliss and melancholy
of fragmented forevers
and how it aches
that we cant press our skins together
and inhale our scents
for an awful lot of time
my fingertips burn as your touches linger
my throat hurts as i swallow the words i want spit out
my core tired of waiting for the right moment
when?
when?
when?
when can we be free?
and inhale our scents
