I'm nostalgic
for the feel
of your fingers
on my body
but how is that possible
when you've never even touched me?I'm nostalgic for you
and you don't even exist.
YOU ARE READING
eternally ephemeral [ poetry & prose ]
Poetry[ Previously titled Soothing Thoughts of the Clamorous Mind. ] Here are the- Words dripping out of my mouth like ink Vanishing into the blues on the brink Of whispered promises That make our hearts scratch with callouses. Or in short and simple way...
Nostalgia
I'm nostalgic
for the feel
of your fingers
on my body
but how is that possible
when you've never even touched me?I'm nostalgic for you
and you don't even exist.