And I'll turn around,
again and again,
just to offer you that one ounce of smile which is tucked inside my jeans pockets, as I've anticipations that you'll have a need to put on a smile on your own face any time soon.
I'll turn around,
Just to remind you that I'm here , still here in case you want me to stop, and caress my hair for one last time, reminding me of the relationship between threads and needles, and the bond between the two.
I'll turn around,
To keep tracks of my footsteps, and the distance which we will share after this separation. Lord only knows, where on earth the two of us will end up after this night.
I'll turn around,
To make sure you're alright, and that you haven't crossed the road without checking either side of the path, as I'm too afraid to lose you. And you're the only one whom I claim as mine.
And at last, I'll turn around again,
for no reason, but to see you for a last time. To take as much of you as I can, at once.
Afterall, I'm not a fan of goodbyes, my love.
I'm not a fan of farewells.
YOU ARE READING
The Untold Stories.
Krótkie Opowiadania// The Untold Stories. \\ " We're about the books we read, and the poems we love." - Kritika Banerjee. A collection of paragraphs, nanotales, poetry and thoughts from my journey. Highest Rank - #78 in short stories on 29/6/17 ...
