~πŸ’•~ Gentle Senses ~πŸ’•~

 

A flower being passed romantically from hand to hand

 

I feel a touch, a brush so softly

a sentiment from a time so long ago.

I hear a voice, whispering sweet tones

now only rustlings on branches in the breeze.

I see a face, tinged with dreams of a child

now but a phantom of innocence lost.

I taste a kiss, perfect longing and desire,

simple remains of tears and regret.

I smell cologne of ardor and passions kindled,

now barely left in the twilight of the moon.

My inner sense of love, fragile, timeless, unique and true

still held within my heart, memories, and deep down in my soul;

to share with the one who longs for me too.

The love who will someday make me whole.

 

 

 

[Picture courtesy of Unsplash.com ~ Evan Kirby]

 

 

 

 

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