Remembrances

Last sight of all it may be with these eyes, 
Last touch, last hearing, since eyes, hands, and ears, 
Even serving love, are our mortalities, 
And cling to what they own in mortal fears:—
But oh, let end what will, I hold you fast 
By immortal love, which has no first or last.
--Eleanor Farjeon


desire is still a memory attached to you
dreams sometimes with floating images of you
thoughts sometimes are stained by sounds of you
romanticized fantasies where the lover is you
the body sometimes reacts to a thought of you
and it makes me feel dumb to write this and think about you

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