Saturday 16 November 2013

The language of the butterflies.

The very purpose of my rememberance,
is to remind my olfactory nerves the pleasant smell of detergent on your gray T-shirt.
And our hands don't fit together so perfectly,
My palms a tad too sweaty,and your fingers on my spine sting like a cold water shower.
But your smile plunges me in to a prolonged comfort-
Like that of my old school Reebok shoes.
Always there,cozy and even when worn out felt almost new,
Abide by you years and years through..
And I'm a little more in love with you.
Xoxo 💋

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