Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Less Than Perfect

The smell of you entangled in the fabric
can make me remember our lazy days.
We were close enough to be safe,
but far enough to miss the others breath.
We loved so tenderly
but fought so frequently.
Words were as scarring as 
salt in open wounds.
We kept our arms tangled together
with dreadful intentions.
Remembering the sound of your shaking voice
still shakes my bones like thunder.
The imprint of your fingers still grip
the curves of  my hips.
My questions were only empty thoughts about
what we could be.
We hardly had enough time to understand
the definition of together forever.
I suppose that's why we settled for 
less than perfect.

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