(via girlinthewater)
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas,…
“Most nights, you’re in my dreams.
And in my dreams, you want me too.”
Perfect
Strange, isn’t it? The way you think about things.
Like, I don’t want to change my sheets on my bed because you were the last person to sleep on them with me. And taking those sheets would be like taking the last trace of you I have.
