I hope I haunt him now.
He is in my heart, shriveled like a raisin with cowardice and playing games. But I still know the glory of the stars, the essence of the night. Not because I loved him, but because I loved.
Monday, March 12, 2012
I loved
'You are my ghost', he whispered in my ear, his breath warm against my chilled wet skin. 'I love you', I replied, and I did. Those words, released from their silent prison, grew and expanded to fill the night and the universe, to reach all the stars and saturate my soul. I love you.
I hope I haunt him now.
He is in my heart, shriveled like a raisin with cowardice and playing games. But I still know the glory of the stars, the essence of the night. Not because I loved him, but because I loved.
I hope I haunt him now.
He is in my heart, shriveled like a raisin with cowardice and playing games. But I still know the glory of the stars, the essence of the night. Not because I loved him, but because I loved.
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