I miss the
smell of your clothes, when you held me.
And I hate how I can't feel your hair tickle my face, when we
hug.
I miss tracing the lines on your palm and feeling the little hairs
on your knuckle.
I can still hear the sound of your voice and the feel sincerity of
your smile.
I still smell the happiness in the air, that lingered when you
laughed.
I can remember the secret language we spoke with our eyes.
And how we told each other a story with one look.
I want you back.
Where did you go?
I miss the smell of your clothes, when you held me. And I hate
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Jun 28, 2011 2:13pm