September 2011
1 post
3 tags
Sometimes you have to do something sappy
The last smells of summer cling to my skin, and I can’t help but remember the way that yours clung to mine so long ago, or was it even that long ago. We both stopped saying anything to one another as if to prove who would be the last to feel vulnerable; this time it was me. But then again, that’s what these kinds of things do to people. And I remember every detail, except one, which is the taste...