I can't get the images out of my mind.
the velvety skin
brushing against my own.
the minty blue eyes
looking into my own.
the soft, vermillion lips
connecting with my own.
the tiny little hands
grasping my own.
but I have to forget how perfect we looked
intertwined with one another.
because that skin is no longer brushing against my own.
those eyes are no longer looking into my own.
those lips are no longer connecting with my own.
those hands are no longer grasping my own.
and she is no longer mine.
