The invisible outline of you haunts me.
I can almost taste you in the empty air.
Reaching across the spaces between
they
weave
themselves
around
me.
What is real, who’s to say.
Do you exist?
Did you ever?
Having believed...
Was it I that forged your angelic memory?
Memory is a lesser truth.
The illusions i am left with echo out in whispers of you.
The invisible outline of you haunts me.
I can almost taste you in the empty air.
Reaching across the spaces between
they
weave
themselves
around
me.
What is real, who’s to say.
Do you exist?
Did you ever?
Having believed...
Was it I that forged your angelic memory?
Memory is a lesser truth.
The illusions i am left with echo out in whispers of you.