Memories

I see her,
Her hair like golden wheat right before harvest.
Her eyes like pools, whose depths can never be reached.

I feel her,
Her body, soft and warm, the way she remained in my arms.
The smoothness of her cheek gently giving way beneath my lips.

I smell her,
Her scent is like a field of wild growing Jasmine.
As sweet as the honeysuckle in springtime.

I hear her,
Her voice like that of royalty falling on the ears of a knave.
So soft as to turn a man’s heart from stone.

I taste her,
Her sweet lips, like cold water to a thirsty man.
Sweet enough to tame the wildest of hearts.

I miss her,
She left without a word and I’m alone in my hurt.
All I have left are the memories inside me, threatening to kill the man that possesses them.
Oh, that I could have her back.
Maybe then my life would be okay.
Maybe then I’d have more to say.

I weep for her,
She was carried away. On the wings of a dove so they say.
No matter how much I try to call her back, the angels from God refuse.
All I can do is cry and try to release these memories.
 

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