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I reminisce the days, the days where she would tell me about the lines of the bookshe loved.
About the the lines that made her eyes grin, the words that would make her heart ache with melanochy, the ones that created strange void in her chest; The paragraphs, that she read over and over and the songs that stuck in head, the ones she hummed in silence of dusk.
I wonder if I am somewhere, in between the lines of her favorite book or lyrics of the song she loves, drifting between the notes, like she does in mine.
I hope to stray in her memory lane, whenever that song plays, whispering in her ear. • • • • • • • •
