The summer in winter

His touch was a
transitory evocation
of summer days.
You could almost smell
the promise of heat and
passion. As the winter
coldness kisses my face,
I think of his breath like
the summer breeze
whipping salt unto my skin.

To this day, 14 months
and 2,756 miles away,
no one makes me
ache like you.

My body revolts against itself just so it could miss you. Tag that person you’re missing right now. #officiallymissingyou

#bemymuse 33, as requested by @pessimist_romantic


In 10 years,
you won’t remember
my name. I will be
just a tiny puzzle
of your youth, a
forgotten piece,
a forgotten kiss,
another forgotten
snowflake that
melted in
your hands.
Continue reading “Snowflake”