maybe it is the memory of soft skin against mine. thick, humid air, teasing our pores;; the brink of sweetness teetering beyond heat.
letting go of the past & clinging to the gust of wind that we know as promise. & ivory snowflakes kiss us now, ever so frail now.
we are standing on the edge of something & it glistens, taunting, ever so close.
written on 2004-04-17 at 10:08 p.m.
she / lost