Forever engraved on
Nerve endings, signaling
A hormone release
That induces nostalgia.
I see our hands dancing,
Flesh to flesh, magnetic
Forces pulling them
Close, electricity
Circulating between
The pair.
Where did I go wrong?
A Tuesday evening,
You vanished without
A trace: I trace the
Image of your palm
Upon sand, yearning
For the past.
I hold on to this image,
Perhaps lies I convince
Myself that there was more,
Than the really was.
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